Quasimodo


A espada da realidade cortou cerce, ferindo a tua fantasia.Repousava ela no chão frio e ela fria e nua.E à medida que, do seu corpo se iam as ultimas résteas de vida ,recordavas com mágoa, a dolorosa inutilidade da tua existência.Algures, um espelho devolvera uma imagem de ti e trouxera-te de volta ao Mundo. E assim num repente, ficáste sem asas para poder voar por cima do sarcasmo e da ironia,da intolerância e da incompreensão.Se pensaste morrer antes do teu tempo?Sim ,algumas vezes.Tantas quantas apreciaras a beleza do simplesmente "existir".E pensaste:-"Devo viver ou sobreviver? "

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