Storytelling

Every narrative has its flaws,
I have seen them, I have lived them,
I have traded my wisdom for my hatred,
And I have paid for it.

I have touched the breath of death,
Unable to control my demons for being fragile under their gaze,
Hiding behind a children's tale,
Knowing that I live in a suspense novel.

I can't fight against the antagonist either,
I really can't defeat that villain,
That headless king marching alongside fallen heroes,
Sweetly tormenting me,
Calling upon the spirit of doom.

I would like to hide,
What a cowardly narrator,
One who knows that needs to watch, feel, write.
I will swim in this corrupted dawn,
Drinking from its screams, sipping from its cup of wine.

Every narrative has its flaws,
And I haven't been able to create the perfect setting,
I have surrendered to its control of time,
To its senseless battles.
Filling my ocean with furious waves,
That cannot speak the truth.

And I have created the most painful climax, yet the most perfect for me,
The most confusing, tangled, and blasphemous of all,
Cruelly playing among shadows,
Hiding that dark seal,
As dark as my soul.

And the ending doesn’t matter,
Because there are always flaws,
Cruel flaws
That eventually turn into virtues,
Sweet virtues
Entwined in the soul,
Screaming that you should love the plot more...
Than the conclusion.