Prometheus Unbound

To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite; To forgive wrongs darker than death or night; To defy power which seems omnipotent. To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates. -Percy. B. Shelley, Prometheus Unbound-

mal_foi_noireSHYNESS As soon as I knew, only that existed and that I could be, continue, I was afraid of this, of life, I wished that I could see, you do not know my existence. I became skinny, pale, absent, I did not want to talk because they could not recognize my voice, I did not want to see because they do not see me, walking, I held her against the wall like a shadow slipping away. I would dress red tile, smoke, to stay there, but invisible, be present in everything, but far, preserve my identity obscure, linked to the rhythm of spring Pablo Neruda This poem is a perfect description of me