The Crow

Burn - The Cure

“People once believed that when someone dies a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can’t rest."

"Then sometimes, just sometimes, a crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right… Shelley and Eric were very much in love

A year later death is no longer what it was as Eric Draven, accompanied by a Crow and gifted with new powers and a world of grief and pain, is brought back to life to avenge his love’s death. After all, love is forever."

"Eric Draven e sua noiva Shelly são brutalmente assassinados na Noite do Demônio (Devil's Night), a noite que precede o Halloween. Um ano depois, Eric volta do mundo dos mortos guiado por um corvo. Inicialmente sem lembranças do ocorrido, volta ao seu antigo apartamento onde recobra as memórias e a dor da morte. Eric pinta em seu rosto os traços de um palhaço feliz e distorcido e inicia uma caçada para vingar-se de seus assassinos."

"Gifted with new powers and a world of grief and pain, is brought back to life to avenge his love’s death."

A realização deste filme foi marcada pela morte de Brandon Lee.

Madeixa de dois fios

Descolorados fios prateados, duas estrelas cadentes, coroando como um diadema os meus cabelos, enaltecendo as vivências...deslindando a maturação interna!
Punhal de duas lâminas, que aguarda o teu toque de prata, dessas mãos que me abraçam suavemente a alma!
Adorno natural do primordial e encoberto segredo ... alma branca?!? Não!! Alma prateada. Decorada com estrelas e desejos.

Punhal tranquilo no colo da divindade, em compasso de espera!
Em contagem decrescente...

Lost and Found

THE LITTLE BOY LOST

‘Father, father, where are you going?

Oh do not walk so fast!

Speak, father, speak to your little boy,

Or else I shall be lost.’

The night was dark, no father was there,

The child was wet with dew;

The mire was deep, and the child did weep,

And away the vapour flew.

THE LITTLE BOY FOUND

The little boy lost in the lonely fen,

Led by the wandering light,

Began to cry, but God, ever night,

Appeared like his father, in white.

He kissed the child, and by the hand led,

And to his mother brought,

Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale,

Her little boy weeping sought.


(texto de William Blake, extraído da obra "Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience)