Cuando la letra es mas que palabras

DESOLATION Suddenly I was stranded Prostrate there All that audacity that sprang up You should disappear And like any bird with wings undone and falling Sad and in their own shadows Tenebrous and multiplied Yes, there I was, nailing the swords And constant in an insistent procession From old ghosts Trying to make that ordeal The sacrifice itself, Like any executioner of himself Welcoming then This cold oil that inhabits me. Author Sonia Herrera Hurtado

DATE 04/0472018 I'm going to tell you... Of course everything I write is not autobiographical, although it does have a lot of my Some will think that they are their own experiences, the truth is that hundreds of my texts are just the product of my mere imaginary creativity, true, that, for most writers, our muse needs inspiration, some reason that deludes fantasies that even being mere illusory and imaginary creativity culminate perhaps more than once being controversial., said in this way, for me as a writer although I still say apprentice writer, the writer is born with that concern and forges or gives more training in accordance with the constant discipline, to be a writer you need to write even if our rhetoric or otherwise said the way the way we write and translate our letters gives us a certain way, curiously my first book not yet published but if registered in Indautor, is very intimate and is written most of our own daily life and in the first person entitled ...

Voy a contarles                                                                                                   FECHA                                                                                                                         04/0472018 Por supuesto todo lo que escribo no es autobiográfico, aunque si tiene mucha parte de mi Algunos pensaran que son experiencias propias, lo cierto es que cientos de mis textos son solo producto de ...