Y la gente sigue sin rumbo caminando por las calles, parecen zombies sin orientación. Se mueven con atroz velocidad, se pierden el arco iris, van con sus cabezas bien bajas. Con su mirada focalizan el frio suelo, no gustan ver maravillas a su alrededor. Gente desmoralizada, almas pesimistas.
Espíritus que se bloquean ellos mismos, no tienen espacio para el amor,
censuran y prohiben el bienestar en sus vidas. No quieren calor, no necesitan gestos de cariño, ni palabras de aliento. Tienen el corazón intoxicado y nadie sabe la razón, nadie gusta acercarse a ellos, son de mirada colapsada y rehuyen a la feliz multitud.
Pierden el tiempo hurgando una y otra vez en sus heridas, sin querer cambiar su postura. Pobres de ellos que desconocen todas las joyas existentes en este mundo lleno de magia, fenómenos y milagros.
Pobres de ellos, porque no gustan hallar soluciones, se pusieron cómodos en las sombras y ahora rechazan la luz.
And people are still wandering the streets, looking like zombies without guidance. They move with atrocious speed, they miss the rainbow, they go with their heads very low. With their gaze they focus on the cold ground, they do not like to see wonders around them. Demoralized people, pessimistic souls.
Spirits that block themselves, have no room for love,
censor and prohibit well-being in their lives. They don't want heat, they don't need gestures of affection, or words of encouragement. Their hearts are intoxicated and no one knows the reason, no one likes to approach them, they are collapsed-eyed and shun the happy crowd.
Poor souls, they don't know that they waste their time idolizing the darkness.
They waste time digging through their wounds again and again, not wanting to change their posture. Poor of them who do not know all the jewels existing in this world full of magic, phenomena and miracles.
Poor of them, because they do not like to find solutions, they became comfortable in the shadows and now they reject the light.
by So Sunny
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