I'm exhausted, with little strength, consuming my hopes. Not knowing if I lived a sleep, wondering to myself that I was wrong. But my body can stand still, waiting, waiting and waiting for the reason why I'm here. I'm not changing, and if I had to repeat the same mistakes I'd do it, because those mistakes are part of me, those mistakes have created me to me, those mistakes are shaping my destiny.
night is coming, every day, and a thousand memories invade the nostalgia. All messy, come from many places in many ancient times, all become one and you remember the good and bad memories. My life is a puzzle of these memories that I carried each piece somewhere.
What does not kill you makes you stronger. The pain wakes you from sleep and reminds you that never sheathed his sword and shield you always protect yourself. Take strength, defend and attack again. I think sleeping in life, but is weak and almost relent off just what it takes to keep fighting after.
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