terça-feira, 8 de setembro de 2009

Sou Aquele que Sou...

Não sou onipotente, onisciente e onipresente como aquele que vocês acham que é deus...
Vejo, sinto, sou apenas aquilo que este corpo, temporário diga-se de passagem, me permite.
Sou o líder da Legião, a linha de frente dos 21 renegados, aquele por qual céus e terras se abalam.
Sou aquele que invade sua mente, devora sua alma, acaba com seu ser e só se vai quando aproveitar a última gota de sangue, que escorre pela testa junto ao suor do sofrimento.
Para quem não me conhece, sou Zalaniel, o 21º, porém a linha de frente. A Torre que sempre derruba o Rei, a fortaleza que acabará com tudo aquilo que imaginas ser certo.
Sou aquele que sou, como diria o livrinho de vocês... Sou aquele que pode, que faz... Que abusa e usa de todos os sentimentos, brinca com a dúvida, se diverte com a vitória.
Toda política tem seus anti-partidários... Pense que sou um deles... Não um vilão, afinal, quem chama Heloísa Helena, por exemplo, de vilã? Quero apenas acabar com a soberania tirana de um governo mal feito...
E quem quiser, que venha comigo!

domingo, 6 de setembro de 2009

Muito obrigado, Tuomas Holopainen!

Bom...
Hoje fiquei em casa o dia todo, e ouvindo a música The Poet and the Pendulum, chorei sem ser com a versão ao vivo...
Dessa vez, prestei atenção na letra dessa belíssima composição e percebi que, apesar de ser estranho, parece que foi escrita para mim.
Passei por muitos altos e baixos na minha vida... E todos estão nessa música...
Vejam a letra...

E se possível, escutem a música...

The Poet And The Pendulum

"WHITE LANDS OF EMPATHICA"

The end.

The songwriter's dead.
The blade fell upon him
Taking him to the white lands
Of Empathica
Of Innocence
Empathica
Innocence


"HOME"

The dreamer and the wine
Poet without a rhyme
A widowed writer torn apart by chains of hell

One last perfect verse
Is still the same old song
Oh Christ how I hate what I have become

Take me home

Getaway, runaway, fly away
Lead me astray to dreamer's hideaway
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world
Forgive me
I have but two faces
One for the world
One for God
Save me
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world

My home was there 'n then
Those meadows of heaven
Adventure-filled days
One with every smiling face

Please, no more words
Thoughts from a severed head
No more praise
Tell me once my heart goes right

Take me home

Getaway, runaway, fly away
Lead me astray to dreamer's hideaway
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world
Forgive me
I have but two faces
One for the world
One for God
Save me
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world


"THE PACIFIC"

Sparkle my scenery
With turquoise waterfall
With beauty underneath
The Ever Free

Tuck me in beneath the blue
Beneath the pain, beneath the rain
Goodnight kiss for a child in time
Swaying blade my lullaby

On the shore we sat and hoped
Under the same pale moon
Whose guiding light chose you
Chose you all

"I'm afraid. I'm so afraid.
Being raped again, and again, and again
I know I will die alone.
But loved.

You live long enough to hear the sound of guns,
long enough to find yourself screaming every night,
long enough to see your friends betray you.

For years I've been strapped unto this altar.
Now I only have 3 minutes and counting.
I just wish the tide would catch me first and give me a death I always longed for ".


"DARK PASSION PLAY"

2nd robber to the right of Christ
Cut in half - infanticide
The world will rejoice today
As the crows feast on the rotting poet

Everyone must bury their own
No pack to bury the heart of stone
Now he's home in hell, serves him well
Slain by the bell, tolling for his farewell

The morning dawned, upon his altar
Remains of the dark passion play
Performed by his friends without shame
Spitting on his grave as they came

Getaway, runaway, fly away
Lead me astray to dreamer's hideaway
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world
Forgive me
I have but two faces
One for the world
One for God
Save me
I cannot cry 'cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world


"Today, in the year of our Lord 2005,
Tuomas was called from the cares of the world.
He stopped crying at the end of each beautiful day.
The music he wrote had too long been without silence.

He was found naked and dead,
With a smile in his face, a pen and 1000 pages of erased text."


Save me


"MOTHER & FATHER"

Be still, my son
You're home
Oh when did you become so cold?
The blade will keep on descending
All you need is to feel my love

Search for beauty, find your shore
Try to save them all, bleed no more
You have such oceans within
In the end
I will always love you

The beginning.


Muito obrigado, Tuomas... Por suas letras e melodias... E por tocar sempre nas minhas feridas...