As of today I decided to write a short pause of coming into this madness they call way of living.
As I walked trough the streets of Portugal I could have swore I saw a mythical creature from begone age called Adamastor, a fierce and grandiose being wearing the skin of a soldier that could move mountains and pierce fear in the heart of brave man.
Saw civilians packing knifes as it was the currency of this new age , grey , sometimes reeking with the smell of dried iron , probably was already used.
Our president , a bald man wearing a cape , lifeless face , probably due to the fact no mere man could impress him anymore, or it was the face of king gone years of battles in line formations using grey knifes against grey knifes.
My country being exchanged for a single coin was the days news that I heard across the few radios that survived the bombings… they came ..they are now knocking at our capital again… I must sharp my knife and join the ranks… I just want a bit of bravery for todays day, be just another day