<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:04:28.810+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Divagações e Afins</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"I'll make your world come crashing around you&lt;br&gt;
Smash down around you&lt;br&gt;
I'll let you see why cannot hide from me&lt;br&gt;
Because I am you"&lt;/i&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>101</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-4045827370455549674</id><published>2009-01-23T15:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-23T15:31:19.625Z</updated><title type='text'>Dia de chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Lá fora a chuva parece cair&lt;br /&gt;Entre as gotas de agua, &lt;br /&gt;Dois pássaros cantam..    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;O Sr. lá atrás pode-se sentar..&lt;/span&gt;     -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma voz grave, rouca.. &lt;br /&gt;Apertando a garganta para ilustrar  &lt;br /&gt;Um pouco de sentido de superioridade nela,  &lt;br /&gt;Com uma tontura sinto os meus pés aterrarem na sala de novo.. &lt;br /&gt;Embarga-me de novo para a sala,  &lt;br /&gt;por detrás do estrado,  &lt;br /&gt;uma silhueta negra emerge displicente e algo cruel,  &lt;br /&gt;olha de cima as pessoas,  &lt;br /&gt;deseja secretamente ter todos seus subordinados  e&lt;br /&gt;crê este ser, que todos se devem ajoelhar a seus pés..  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pelo menos nesta sala!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejo esse brilho nos olhos sem alma..     &lt;br /&gt;Sem esse manto negro de sombras, &lt;br /&gt;Seria(s)  tu/você subordinado(a),&lt;br /&gt;simples lacaio como eu.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dou por mim temendo sem forças,  &lt;br /&gt;tal figura medonha.. &lt;br /&gt;de sorriso orgulhosamente cínico&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;br /&gt;sonhador  imagina filas de vassalos a dar honras.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirige-se agora a mim esta figura impar,  &lt;br /&gt;imperadora no seu estrado,  &lt;br /&gt;nem nobreza ou clero a rodeiam,  &lt;br /&gt;apenas chamas negras de desprezo. &lt;br /&gt;Repudia-me,&lt;br /&gt;mas nao tremo,  &lt;br /&gt;pergunta a pergunta me aproximo do desfecho..  &lt;br /&gt;Tal figura negra&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;br /&gt;cheia de soberania   não vai permitir deslizes,&lt;br /&gt;muito menos a um simples mortal..  &lt;br /&gt;Não, não vai..&lt;br /&gt;Nem pode. &lt;br /&gt;Falta-me o manto negro,  &lt;br /&gt;tenho a roupa muito viva,  &lt;br /&gt;não sou mórbido nem imponente.. &lt;br /&gt;tenho cores de alegria e vida em mim,  &lt;br /&gt;não subo ao estrado para me mostrar,  &lt;br /&gt;não quero armar-me de sombras negras..  &lt;br /&gt;Não quero ser temido e ignorado.. &lt;br /&gt;Sou um cavaleiro do povo sem voz.     &lt;br /&gt;Apenas mais um!    &lt;br /&gt;Tal figura soberana naquela sala escura é ordem,  &lt;br /&gt;Dentro dessa sala respira aquele ar negro, &lt;br /&gt;nota-se que não se adapta a vida lá fora,   junto ao povo,  &lt;br /&gt;onde o ar é puro e alegre.. &lt;br /&gt;Aí perece, não aguenta,  &lt;br /&gt;grita de dor com a agonia da felicidade. &lt;br /&gt;Fora desse estrado não é nada… Nada! &lt;br /&gt;O desfecho é apenas um culminar, &lt;br /&gt;de um caminho de orgulho e negros pavões..  &lt;br /&gt;desfecho já dado muito antes de o dia escurecer assim tanto.. &lt;br /&gt;ate mesmo antes de ele nascer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sim Sra. juíza, aceito tal pena, dou como verdadeiras todas as acusações..&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;digo com ar entediado e repudiando a revolta.    &lt;br /&gt;Lá fora a chuva continua a cair  Entre as gotas de agua, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dois pássaros morrem..    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sessão encerrada!! &lt;br /&gt;Carrascos à rua..&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-4045827370455549674?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4045827370455549674/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=4045827370455549674' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4045827370455549674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4045827370455549674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/dia-de-chuva.html' title='Dia de chuva'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-5854191390188051704</id><published>2008-02-23T14:11:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-02-23T16:01:57.391Z</updated><title type='text'>Velho Lobo do Mar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Marinheiro ao porto...&lt;br /&gt;A noite à rua saiu,&lt;br /&gt;no cais embriagado&lt;br /&gt;um vulto decrépito caiu..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parece que foi ontem,&lt;br /&gt;louco por me aventurar,&lt;br /&gt;era então eu jovem..&lt;br /&gt;Quando quis conhecer o mar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembro-me que este velho trapo,&lt;br /&gt;era outrora uma figura ímpar..&lt;br /&gt;Comandante destemido..&lt;br /&gt;E plena voz de requinte&lt;br /&gt;era Cantador de histórias&lt;br /&gt;e odes a uma Senhora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milhas pelo mar adentro..&lt;br /&gt;dias sem brisa do vento..&lt;br /&gt;Eu e esse domador do mar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cantou-me esta história uma vez,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto contava-mos as ondas do mar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;br /&gt; Não tenho casa nem família,&lt;br /&gt;cresci orfão de afecto,&lt;br /&gt;descobri por mim a alegria&lt;br /&gt;afogada num triste mar preto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugi do meu orfanato,&lt;br /&gt;passei fome, roubei e mendiguei..&lt;br /&gt;nunca desisti,&lt;br /&gt;apesar das muitas cicatrizes que sarei..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis crescer,&lt;br /&gt;quis viver,&lt;br /&gt;procurei alguém para amar,&lt;br /&gt;acabei por me magoar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vivi mil e uma histórias..&lt;br /&gt;Amor? Ai quem me dera saber..&lt;br /&gt;frustrações inglórias,&lt;br /&gt;de quem só sabia sofrer..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiz-me marinheiro conquistador,&lt;br /&gt;queria correr o mundo inteiro,&lt;br /&gt;conhecer novos horizontes,&lt;br /&gt;sair daquele sitio para mim cheio de dor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca ansiei uma viagem de regresso,&lt;br /&gt;por ninguém me esperar de volta,&lt;br /&gt;após correr o mundo só trazia uma lágrima solta,&lt;br /&gt;pois voltava para abraçar uma família vazia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queria alguém..&lt;br /&gt;ainda hoje o quero..&lt;br /&gt;mas talvez não haja quem,&lt;br /&gt;queira um homem a quem vida,&lt;br /&gt;moldou a ferros!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Costumava ter um nome,&lt;br /&gt;charmoso e muito popular,&lt;br /&gt;hoje sou apenas conhecido,&lt;br /&gt;como velho lobo do mar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca conheci o amor,&lt;br /&gt;conheci algumas senhoras,&lt;br /&gt;portos de abrigo e ilusão,&lt;br /&gt;agarradas a cada tostão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já não sei andar em terra,&lt;br /&gt;o meu chão é o mar,&lt;br /&gt;em terra sou um zé ninguém..&lt;br /&gt;no meu barco sou domador do mar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabia bem onde era a minha terra,&lt;br /&gt;acho que ainda hoje o sei.. &lt;br /&gt;gostava de um dia la voltar,&lt;br /&gt;Quando ela de mim se orgulhar.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nas minhas viagens, &lt;/div&gt;Muito eu vivi..&lt;br /&gt;Mas aprendi uma coisa..&lt;br /&gt;Se vais ao mar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;se visitas a minha Senhora... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Leva-lhe presentes ou flores,&lt;br /&gt;trata bem a água,&lt;br /&gt;trata-a tão bem,&lt;br /&gt;como tratarias o amor da tua vida,&lt;br /&gt;pois também a ela,&lt;br /&gt;a Esta Senhora,&lt;br /&gt;tens de lhe cativar os humores,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muitos marinheiros já vi,&lt;br /&gt;homens feitos cheios de vigor,&lt;br /&gt;que dela, do mar troçaram..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ofendida,&lt;br /&gt;qual Calipso enfurecida,&lt;br /&gt;os encheu de terror,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;homens feitos agora gritavam,&lt;br /&gt;outros choravam baba e ranho,&lt;br /&gt;até pela mãe chamaram..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas, a Senhora de mau humor..&lt;br /&gt;de raiva desperta,&lt;br /&gt;não sabe o que é clemência,&lt;br /&gt;sem dó nem piedade,&lt;br /&gt;roubou-lhes a vida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outrora homens feitos cheios de vigor,&lt;br /&gt;hoje jazem em silêncio,&lt;br /&gt;no leito que tanto desprezaram...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto até inveja deles..&lt;br /&gt;pois dormem infinitamente,&lt;br /&gt;aos pés da minha Bela Dama. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Velho Lobo do Mar&lt;br /&gt;em terra não tens maré,&lt;br /&gt;não tens âncora..&lt;br /&gt;Aqui não é o teu lugar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Velho Lobo do Mar...&lt;br /&gt;Volta à agua..&lt;br /&gt;Beija a tua Senhora,&lt;br /&gt;pois só vives para A amar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-5854191390188051704?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5854191390188051704/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=5854191390188051704' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5854191390188051704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5854191390188051704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2008/02/velho-lobo-do-mar.html' title='Velho Lobo do Mar'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-5673484518773200093</id><published>2007-11-17T13:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-17T13:35:14.908Z</updated><title type='text'>A Maldição das palavras</title><content type='html'>Ponho as minhas forças nas palavras que escrevo,&lt;br /&gt;ponho a minha resistência em cada acento ou virgula,&lt;br /&gt;Sem estas palavras provavelmente não teria tanto sentido a minha vida...&lt;br /&gt;Sem estas palavras eu próprio não teria sentido..&lt;br /&gt;Por estas palavras vivo eu a minha vida,&lt;br /&gt;ou, talvez a de alguém.. Já não sei bem.&lt;br /&gt;Dei, e dou, tanto de mim nestas palavras intemporais que virei refém delas,&lt;br /&gt;nem sempre sei o que escrevo,&lt;br /&gt;por vezes basta-me um olhar,&lt;br /&gt;por vezes escrevo sobre a vida de alguém,&lt;br /&gt;por vezes enfatizo a minha..&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes sou um herói sem poderes que salvo o mundo..&lt;br /&gt;Navego num mundo livre de hipocrisias em que vivemos nos dias de hoje salvo tudo e todos, sou esse herói.&lt;br /&gt;Faz todo o sentido ser-se insensível à vida lá fora para a descrevermos num quadro de letras negras mas todo floreado de rendas douradas e verdades certas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei por quem me tomo!!&lt;br /&gt;Não sei porquê.. Sei que estas palavras me aprisionam, e me fazem escrevê-las, sem elas não sei falar.. Muito menos gritar (quando preciso)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palavras mansas e sem poder, fracas para gritar.. acho que as palavras também respiram..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revolta-me esta maldição que me preenche e completa,&lt;br /&gt;Revolta-me escrever cada letra, sem pudor pelas frases que se amontoam através delas..&lt;br /&gt;(Se ao menos de cada uma pudesse fazer uma arma)&lt;br /&gt;Revolta-me este poder de recriar o meu mundo com as minhas visões e nele poder ser feliz sem reservas..Eu e mais ninguém!&lt;br /&gt;Revolta-me não poder correr nele e dar-te a ti essa liberdade, tu podes correr no meu mundo de palavras ocas e confiantes!&lt;br /&gt;Corre.. mas devagar e em silêncio, não me acordes por tal coisa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revolta-me ser irónico e cínico, quando as palavras me pedem carinho!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-5673484518773200093?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5673484518773200093/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=5673484518773200093' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5673484518773200093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5673484518773200093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/maldio-das-palavras.html' title='A Maldição das palavras'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-4820108093960131448</id><published>2007-11-17T13:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-17T13:19:07.647Z</updated><title type='text'>Filme de uma vida</title><content type='html'>Choras inconsolável...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acabas-te de ver o filme todo da tua vida...&lt;br /&gt;Viste-o numa tela rasgada e desfocada..&lt;br /&gt;Diz-me, Custou?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num filme sem principio e sem conteúdo que se preze, sem fulgor.. e muito de certeza sem direito a sequela!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conseguis-te ver-te no genérico final?&lt;br /&gt;Entre todas as personagens e afins.. Deste por ti?&lt;br /&gt;Diz-me sinceramente, deste??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eras a parte do "The End"!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-4820108093960131448?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4820108093960131448/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=4820108093960131448' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4820108093960131448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4820108093960131448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/filme-de-uma-vida.html' title='Filme de uma vida'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-902322806455459138</id><published>2007-10-25T01:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T16:50:03.842+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Noite Sombria</title><content type='html'>Altas horas da noite,&lt;br /&gt;hora exacta não sei..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que a noite ainda foge do dia,&lt;br /&gt;a lua hoje não veio&lt;br /&gt;e levou com ela as estrelas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;estico o braço para o lado e não encontro luz..&lt;br /&gt;Os meus olhos abertos não vêm nada,&lt;br /&gt;estico outra vez o braço e não sinto o fim da cama..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;continuo sem achar a luz.&lt;br /&gt;Sentado na cama, procuro a saída da escuridão..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Três batidas na porta fazem-me olhar naquela direcção,&lt;br /&gt;confiando que os meus ouvidos não me traiam,&lt;br /&gt;três sombras pretas na escuridão me despertam a atenção..&lt;br /&gt;não as vejo, mas sinto-as..&lt;br /&gt;não lhe toco, mas gelam-me..&lt;br /&gt;não me mexo, mas aprisionam-me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mais três batidas e mais três sombras..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dia sem forças não apanha a noite..&lt;br /&gt;Eu sem forças deixo-me ficar nas sombras.&lt;br /&gt;quero gritar e a minha voz não sai,&lt;br /&gt;quero correr e as minhas pernas não estão lá..&lt;br /&gt;quero ter luz e não sei por onde procurar..&lt;br /&gt;Longa é a noite, longa é a espera,&lt;br /&gt;com o corpo ausente e entorpecido&lt;br /&gt;longos são os minutos no escuro..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falha-me a noção do tempo,&lt;br /&gt;perdido nas sombras não sei se a noite ainda vai tão alta,&lt;br /&gt;ou porque é que o dia ainda não apanhou a noite,&lt;br /&gt;e a lua foi roubada do céu..&lt;br /&gt;Incertezas e fraquezas,&lt;br /&gt;à noite, rodeado de sombras escuras..&lt;br /&gt;Sem calor, cheio de pavor,&lt;br /&gt;assim estarei eu até ser dia..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-902322806455459138?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/902322806455459138/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=902322806455459138' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/902322806455459138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/902322806455459138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/noite-sombria.html' title='Noite Sombria'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-7493389698534551211</id><published>2007-08-30T01:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T03:23:02.344+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Gaivotas num mar pardo</title><content type='html'>Lá no alto gritam as gaivotas,&lt;br /&gt;lá no alto sentem o vento entre as asas,&lt;br /&gt;lá no alto desbravam os céus..&lt;br /&gt;Voando livres no labirinto da neblina,&lt;br /&gt;voando sem medo nas águas destemidas,&lt;br /&gt;águas carregadas com lápides de legiões de marinheiros e aventureiros,&lt;br /&gt;muitos, imensos são os que ali repousam,&lt;br /&gt;nos mares se guardam e vagueiam...entre as ondas,&lt;br /&gt;planam as almas..&lt;br /&gt;há quem diga que um dia voltarão.&lt;br /&gt;Há quem diga..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaivota sem medo,&lt;br /&gt;Mergulha e plana entre almas a descansar,&lt;br /&gt;mergulha pelo peixe,&lt;br /&gt;mergulha entre o mar lapidar..&lt;br /&gt;olha o mundo de cima..&lt;br /&gt;gaivota solitária,&lt;br /&gt;mil voltas e outras por contar dás tu,&lt;br /&gt;vais onde o vento te levar,&lt;br /&gt;mergulhas no mar sem medo, colhes o teu peixe e logo voltas a voar..&lt;br /&gt;tão brava a enfrentar almas de dedos gélidos que te querem agarrar,&lt;br /&gt;foges tu a abrigar-te em terra quando o vento não te está favorável..&lt;br /&gt;Voas sem rumo.. mergulhas sem receio, mas..&lt;br /&gt;mas por vezes aqui e ali.. uma alma te tenta agarrar..&lt;br /&gt;por vezes aqui e ali.. uma alma te consegue agarrar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaivota num mar pardo, tanto voa..&lt;br /&gt;tanto mergulha., que traz no bico memórias de tempos passados,&lt;br /&gt;mergulha em mares de histórias incontáveis,&lt;br /&gt;mergulha onde muitos entraram e não saíram..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Também tu gaivota.. Também tu,&lt;br /&gt;um dia serás uma pequena alma à deriva nas ondas do mar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-7493389698534551211?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7493389698534551211/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=7493389698534551211' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/7493389698534551211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/7493389698534551211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/08/gaivotas-num-mar-pardo.html' title='Gaivotas num mar pardo'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-2678799817770726827</id><published>2007-08-26T14:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T16:00:16.302+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Populus III - Speratus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Actus postremus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuvens escuras cobrem o céu e os nossos corações vazios de esperança, amarguras espelham-se nos olhares... Já não sabemos a cor do céu, nem o que é o sol. Esquece-se como sorrir, os gestos sempre iguais, oprimidos... Prisão em si, muros escuros e altos, demasiado altos... tão altos que ultrapassam as estrelas, o ar cada vez mais moribundo, corpos amontoam-se pelas ruas, caminhando vamos tropeçando num ou noutro rezando para que um dia não sejamos nós a ser pisados entre os destroços..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;II&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem coragem ou forças já nem a ninguém rezamos...Temem-se as próprias palavras.&lt;br /&gt;A luz cada vez nos iluminava mais de escuridão alimentando o caos, sem nada o prever uma semente sobrevive, milagre ou ajuda da natureza quando tudo o resto falhou... uma criança é gerada, o seu berço desprovido de luz negra ou contacto exterior, ás escuras só iluminada pelo amor e querer dos seus progenitores orgulhosos esta criança de esperança dá os primeiros suspiros.. longe dos demónios que lá fora habitam e vagueiam, cresce onde os tentáculos da sociedade não chegam, cresce sem valores morais ou imorais, nasceu sem preconceitos e totalmente desprovida de valores ambíguos. Seus pais pagarão com a sua própria vida para que esta criança cresça livre e saudável... Cresce esta semente apenas de conhecimentos cognitivos, com que aprende os primeiros passos no trilho da razão. Uma vivência desforrada da sociedade tenebrosa, fora das suas mandíbulas estimula-se o primeiro sorriso ainda sem noção do seu valor, esta criança, um ser tão pequeno sorri inocentemente, quando muitos maiores e mais fortes não sorriem e lhes falham as forças.. vislumbra-se a esperança que nasce num sorriso inocente de reflexos, ainda não conhece o mundo la fora mas sorri, não preocupa, não importa.. Sorri porque lhe sabe bem a inocência, a simplicidade da vida fora da sociedade..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;III&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com o tempo o sorriso não esmorece, pelo contrário cresce, pouco a pouco vai contagiando estes &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;populus incognitus&lt;/span&gt; que com as boas novas que se espalharam muito timidamente vêm observar o fenómeno... mais sorrisos crescem agora, ainda muito tímidos é certo, mas cresce uma luz ténue de esperança, começa a crescer a vontade e a força para lutar contra esta sociedade demente.&lt;br /&gt;Um sorriso de criança, só um no meio do caos devastador, doenças e intempéries agudas, luta esse sorriso sem o saber contra tudo e contra todos, dá forças onde outrora não havia..&lt;br /&gt;O povo começa a sair À rua, a revolta apodera-se e cresce o sentimento de viver, forma-se uma liga de justiça e sobrevivência contra esta sociedade paralizada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;IV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Credo, cor, seja o que for não interessa agora, a sociedade está doente e num grito de revolta expressado num sorriso inocente e ingénuo duma criança nasce um arco-íris de esperança.. Novos ventos, novos valores se elevam! Oiçam os tambores que tocam que nem trovões, marchem, todos juntos ergam bandeiras, desfraldem as velas da liberdade! Oiçam-nos opressores!! Todos juntos tocaremos ainda mais alto estes tambores, cantaremos com mais força! O nosso &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;populus incognitus&lt;/span&gt; deixará de o ser...&lt;br /&gt;Todos juntos, tambores e corações ao alto faremos ecoar esse sorriso de criança pelas ruas!! Irão ouvir-nos quer queiram quer não.. Marcharemos contra esta esta sociedade, marchemos pela nossa liberdade! Hoje a luta com a certeza que amanha ao acordar sorriremos, será o nosso livre despertar.. e esta noite após a nossa batalha, mais crianças serão geradas, mais alianças forjadas, mais liberdades gritadas.. o céu voltará a ser azul, o sol voltará a brilhar!!&lt;br /&gt;Hoje os tambores,&lt;br /&gt;amanha de novo os amores de cada a cada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Speratus Renascentiae,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Omnia Vincit Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-2678799817770726827?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2678799817770726827/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=2678799817770726827' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2678799817770726827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2678799817770726827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/08/populus-iii-speratus.html' title='Populus III - Speratus'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-5045416524143903814</id><published>2007-08-26T13:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T14:50:19.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dos sonhos aqui..</title><content type='html'>Quem me dera que a água não me molhasse,&lt;br /&gt;quem me dera que o céu não fosse já azul..&lt;br /&gt;Quem me dera ter asas &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mais maiores&lt;/span&gt; que o horizonte&lt;br /&gt;e menos pesadas que o ar.&lt;br /&gt;Quem me dera ter a tela para pintar&lt;br /&gt;o meu mundo de cores vivas para mim.&lt;br /&gt;Quem me dera ser o pintor de cada estrela e sol,&lt;br /&gt;se delas pudesse dar mais vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queria dum suspiro fazer um novo dia,&lt;br /&gt;dum piscar de olhos uma nova alegria,&lt;br /&gt;dum simples movimento cobrir o céu de verde&lt;br /&gt;e as árvores de azul.&lt;br /&gt;Queria caminhar no mar e voar sem asas&lt;br /&gt;numa estrada sem princípio...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divagar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perder a roupa que não cobre o meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;por não ser eu um ser próprio para andar coberto.&lt;br /&gt;Quero estar preso numa liberdade sem amarras.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-5045416524143903814?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5045416524143903814/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=5045416524143903814' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5045416524143903814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5045416524143903814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/08/dos-sonhos-aqui.html' title='Dos sonhos aqui..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-6970697141693496493</id><published>2007-08-24T16:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T15:17:44.289+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vale das Lendas e Almas</title><content type='html'>Terra de valores ancestrais,&lt;br /&gt;as pedras que contam histórias do tempo e do lugar,&lt;br /&gt;o vento ancião movendo-se em pés de lã&lt;br /&gt;agita as hortas da vida,&lt;br /&gt;hortas cultivadas por mãos calejadas&lt;br /&gt;de quem já viveu o suficiente para contar histórias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vale de sombras intemporais,&lt;br /&gt;trilhos de pedra fria amontoam-se,&lt;br /&gt;pedra a pedra..&lt;br /&gt;sente-se o peso e a vida perdida de tempos antigos,&lt;br /&gt;ouve-se os múrmurios das vozes passadas,&lt;br /&gt;ainda ecoam em cada pedra como se lá ficassem para sempre presas,&lt;br /&gt;memórias do tempo&lt;br /&gt;que a pedra guarda com todo o carinho e respeito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vale de Histórias..&lt;br /&gt;Entre sopros de memória,&lt;br /&gt;acorda-me algo, traz-me de volta do meu mar de pensamentos...&lt;br /&gt;este silêncio gritante é quebrado por contadores de mil e uma histórias&lt;br /&gt;contadas em voz rouca e antiga profunda de experiência,&lt;br /&gt;a voz que até o vento ouve atentamente,&lt;br /&gt;atrevo-me a observar tal figura&lt;br /&gt;que me leva para tão longe no tempo sem sair do meu lugar,&lt;br /&gt;a cara trilhada pelo tempo,&lt;br /&gt;o corpo queimado do sol e do trabalho,&lt;br /&gt;a pele massacrada pela vida desponta as linhas da memória.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ali entre a chuva a cair e a lareira a arder contam-se histórias e lendas,&lt;br /&gt;de caminhos e afins, da noite e do dia&lt;br /&gt;da vida e do silêncio são estas histórias que um dia serão gravadas em pedra.. dizem-nos.&lt;br /&gt;Historias de si e de outros,&lt;br /&gt;passadas neste vale de sombras onde cada pedra é uma história e uma alma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-6970697141693496493?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6970697141693496493/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=6970697141693496493' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/6970697141693496493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/6970697141693496493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/08/vale-das-lendas-e-almas.html' title='Vale das Lendas e Almas'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-5070067263238959293</id><published>2007-03-27T00:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T01:22:54.512+01:00</updated><title type='text'>(a)Parte da Dor: Ensaio sobre a Loucura</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Não tenho ambições nem desejos&lt;br /&gt;Ser poeta não é ambição minha&lt;br /&gt;É a minha maneira de estar sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tropecei em mim mesmo por não querer descolar os pés do chão, sem querer abstraio-me tanto que até de mim me desprendo. Sem filosofia sinto as coisas como elas são… nuas e cruas. Dispo-me de pensamentos e preconceitos abstractos, conheço tudo o que a vista apanha e me passa à frente, desconheço tudo o resto que não me acerca no raio da visão, olfacto ou audição. Guio-me pelo vento, livre que nem um pássaro. Força-me esta falta de pensamentos a viver a vida ao sabor da terra, viver a vida como ela é no seu estado primitivo, sem falsos adjectivos ou verosimilhanças preconceituosas, inferências do ser, do meu ser, sem temores do dia de amanhã. Poderá isto ser considerado loucura ou ausência de dor, pensando não se sente e sem sentir não há dor. Sem dor, não há razão para pensar. E faço a minha vida neste ciclo, neste caminho gasto e que trilho na vida… ando pelos campos, amedronta-me a civilização, assombra-me ver sempre as mesmas caras sem expressão, sem alma. O susto foi tal que tive lá o meu ultimo pensamento:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Percorremos o abismo do nosso ser, de forma quase sádica e macabra, tempos conturbados estes em que temos que andar pela vida a marchar com o entusiasmo de quem vai para uma guerra que não é a sua, caminhando e desbravando terreno com o entusiasmo de quem sabe que será provavelmente o seu último trilho. Nestes caminhos pendulares e sinuosos &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;de &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;abismos plantados cheios de passos em falso..”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pensamentos que me aterrorizaram, acercou-se de mim um pânico incontrolável, tudo era esmagador e frio, ganhei fobia à cidade e às suas garras...&lt;br /&gt;Fugi.&lt;br /&gt;Fugi da cidade para nunca mais lá voltar, fugi de mim para nunca mais pensar.&lt;br /&gt;Abstraí-me do contacto com corpos sem alma, isolei-me da tristeza e dor impregnada de loucura da cidade onde a minha alma adoeceu, aqui no campo finalmente tenho uma alma livre e feliz, achei-me de vida outra vez num verde imenso e rodeado de um silêncio gritante, confesso que dou por mim muitas vezes deambulando de alma e corpo separados, dou liberdade à minha alma, tanta que até a armei com as asas duma águia para ir onde bem lhe apetecer…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Apenas lhe peço para estar em casa à hora do jantar.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-5070067263238959293?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5070067263238959293/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=5070067263238959293' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5070067263238959293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/5070067263238959293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/03/aparte-da-dor-ensaio-sobre-loucura.html' title='(a)Parte da Dor: Ensaio sobre a Loucura'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-2754693759786401569</id><published>2007-02-22T15:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T16:03:43.573Z</updated><title type='text'>Hurt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I hurt myself today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; To see if I still feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I focus on the pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; The only thing that's real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; The needle tears a hole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; The old familiar sting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Try to kill it all away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; But I remember everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; What have I become?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; My sweetest friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Everyone I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Goes away in the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; You could have it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; My empire of dirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I will let you down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I will make you hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I wear this crown of shit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Upon my liar's chair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Full of broken thoughts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I cannot repair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Beneath the stains of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; The feelings disappear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; You are someone else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I am still right here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; What have I become?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; My sweetest friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Everyone I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; Goes away in the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; You could have it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; My empire of dirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I will let you down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I will make you hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; If I could start again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; A million miles away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt; I would keep myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; I would find a way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;NIN - Hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-2754693759786401569?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2754693759786401569/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=2754693759786401569' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2754693759786401569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2754693759786401569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/02/hurt.html' title='Hurt'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-2039051148964960309</id><published>2007-02-21T15:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-21T15:20:36.480Z</updated><title type='text'>Troca de Palavras</title><content type='html'>A imensidão do olhar&lt;br /&gt;As mãos suadas..o frio no nó dos dedos&lt;br /&gt;O escuro que tudo encobre,&lt;br /&gt;no escuro que os teus olhos iluminam&lt;br /&gt;aceleram-se os pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;por mil e uma frases,&lt;br /&gt;mil e uma imagens..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cruzam-se olhares,&lt;br /&gt;cruzam-se respirações incertas.&lt;br /&gt;cruzam-se corações sem o saber ao certo.&lt;br /&gt;cruzam-se intenções cada vez mais despertas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O filme que pode ser nosso,&lt;br /&gt;(e eu quero-te como actriz principal)&lt;br /&gt;Um sorriso teu,&lt;br /&gt;um gesto..só um.&lt;br /&gt;Por mais simples que pareça,&lt;br /&gt;Ali no escuro..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trocámos palavras em silêncio,&lt;br /&gt;muitas ao acaso,&lt;br /&gt;outras nem por isso..&lt;br /&gt;Ali no nosso silêncio,&lt;br /&gt;tivemos conversas mudas,&lt;br /&gt;Apenas o corpo falava..&lt;br /&gt;Ao som do desejo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-2039051148964960309?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2039051148964960309/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=2039051148964960309' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2039051148964960309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2039051148964960309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/troca-de-palavras.html' title='Troca de Palavras'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-4642477629724771413</id><published>2007-02-19T17:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-19T17:38:38.578Z</updated><title type='text'>Populus: Tragicus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Actus Secundus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mergulho sem alma nas ruas infestadas de uma podridão imunda e impregnadas por um ar que não se consegue respirar, o perigo e o medo de contágio reinam nestes corredores sombrios. Perco-me outra vez em devaneios entre labirintos e ruelas de epidemias terminais,mortais e implacáveis. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;II&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dor que supostamente deveria sentir por ver figuras díspares algo semelhantes ao que já foram corpos, acorda-me de volta para este mundo em que o melhor sonho é não ser embrulhado nestes pesadelos da noite! Está noite de lua cheia, vagueando à deriva vejo apenas sombras ou traços do que éramos, sombras já por si vazias numa noite escura e sombria..pelas ruas erram corpos que viveram metade dos dias que aparentam. Carcaças humanas à procura do alimento do seu vício. Erram-se e trocam-se passos,vive-se a decadência que consome a cada luta por uma dose.. Perde-se controlo duma vida,dependo-a e arrastando-a cada vez mais pela miséria de se ser assim.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;III&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este cheiro nauseabundo impesta o ar que nos entra pelos olhos,perde-se a visão pelo alegre vendo apenas este mundo de causas perdidas e vidas sem cor! É um filme mudo desprovido de cor,negro insensível e sem legendas este que vivemos, olha para o ecra, diz-me que filme ves..eu digo-te como o vejo...&lt;br /&gt;A imagem é um teatro de marionetas, o cenário um cemitério escuro e tenebroso,com vontade própria o ceifeiro move-se sem olhar onde pisa,apenas colhe a alma que tiver que colher, é este ser a personagem principal e tudo o resto, ou seja eu ou tu somos apenas secundários, a maior parte de nós meros esqueletos que tentam sobreviver, acorrentados por cordas e amarras invisiveis que impelem movimentos certos e sem liberdade. (Suspiro..desvio o olhar e dou por mim a pensar) – “Nem os abutres querem este cenário...”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;IV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acerca-se de mim um muro de ódio e repulsa..É o cheiro que não se consegue disfarçar,é o acumular desta sociedade putrefacta, cada vez mais entre dois mundos..Cada vez mais insensível, ingrata e egoísta, cresce por si e só por si, salve-se quem puder, um sai do caminho, que ele queima. Foge pobre alma que já se nota a tua falta de forças pelas tuas veias já demasiado impregnadas de veneno te amolecerem a carne, foge pobre alma que estás perdida no pior cenário que já vi montado e o ceifeiro não dorme..A foice baixou uma vez mais colhendo dois ou três.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;corpus morbidus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-4642477629724771413?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4642477629724771413/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=4642477629724771413' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4642477629724771413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4642477629724771413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/02/populus-tragicus.html' title='Populus: Tragicus'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-2622363912066925118</id><published>2007-01-20T13:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-20T17:24:07.234Z</updated><title type='text'>Plenus Affectus</title><content type='html'>Os braços tornavam-se cada vez mais tensos&lt;br /&gt;todo o corpo ansiava, desejava...&lt;br /&gt;Todo o pequeno pretexto fazia sentido&lt;br /&gt;todo o toque perdido, tudo era desculpa, tudo valia..&lt;br /&gt;mas a chama não se apagava, pelo contrário..&lt;br /&gt;Arde!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arde cada vez mais forte, cada vez&lt;br /&gt;mais intensa, com mais vontade.&lt;br /&gt;nem a brisa do mar nem os ventos do norte,&lt;br /&gt;acalmam..&lt;br /&gt;Nada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada nem ninguém a não ser tu,&lt;br /&gt;só tu podes tomar esta chama.&lt;br /&gt;Porque só tu a fazes arder..&lt;br /&gt;Tudo em mim é chama que chama,&lt;br /&gt;e Anseia por ti!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;magnus incendiu&lt;/span&gt;m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fervi intus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-2622363912066925118?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2622363912066925118/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=2622363912066925118' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2622363912066925118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2622363912066925118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/01/plenus-affectus.html' title='Plenus Affectus'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-8859837759071295982</id><published>2007-01-09T01:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-09T00:57:13.238Z</updated><title type='text'>Desordem..</title><content type='html'>Uma estrada sem fim&lt;br /&gt;Um cruzamento sem retorno&lt;br /&gt;Um dor sem bussola&lt;br /&gt;Um adeus sem sentido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O apertar das horas&lt;br /&gt;quando os minutos se perdem&lt;br /&gt;e os segundos valem ouro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O abismo que percorremos,&lt;br /&gt;O sentimento que nada sente,&lt;br /&gt;imprevisto momento que o tempo acolhe&lt;br /&gt;sem parar, sem abrandar..&lt;br /&gt;Sem olhar para trás.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De tudo, apenas o nada faz sentido..&lt;br /&gt;os traços que são riscos invisíveis..&lt;br /&gt;A dor sangrenta que não vemos..&lt;br /&gt;o grito sem som que soltamos..&lt;br /&gt;os olhos que vêm mesmo sendo cegos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desordem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem controlo governamos a nossa vida assim...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-8859837759071295982?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8859837759071295982/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=8859837759071295982' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/8859837759071295982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/8859837759071295982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/01/desordem.html' title='Desordem..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-4961345610843094188</id><published>2007-01-02T18:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-02T19:22:34.122Z</updated><title type='text'>Populus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Actus:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Os Corpos inertes amontoavam-se pelas ruas, decompondo-se atropelados por doenças de uma sociedade infestada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;II&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;O respirar torna-se pesado, enchemos os pulmões de tudo menos de ar, são os problemas dos outros e os nossos, é uma feira da ladra de doenças onde o perigo é rei e a luxúria rainha..&lt;br /&gt;Entre cruzadas sem destino, tropeça-se em corpos desabrigados de conforto, tecto ou acolhimento..Nem um pouco de dó teremos para sequer estender um pouco de nós, só porque não queremos contágio, só porque não queremos ser apenas mais um corpo sem abrigo. Erram-se estradas que antes habitávamos como se fossem nossas, somos errantes por caminhos outrora dourados ou prateados, mas certos e com destino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;III&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Pensamentos problemáticos nestas encruzilhadas do ser, perdemo-nos demais entre o corpo e a mente para vivermos a vida como se realmente estivesse-mos mesmo vivos.. Tu ou eu, Eu ou tu, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span&gt;Errantes da natureza ou a natureza é que errou connosco?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Somos réus neste tribunal onde nem sequer nos é atribuído advogado de defesa e onde tudo é juíz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;IV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A verdade é que nada faz sentido, eu não faço sentido e tu também não fazes sentido, mas eu e tu estamos aqui há mesma, com maior ou menor dificuldade vamos sobrevivendo a uma sociedade doente de hábitos forçados e sem fulgor, sem chama ou alma que a aqueça. Vidas perdidas em existências superfluas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Seringa a Seringa, Risco a Risco, as forças falham e perdemos o rumo do nosso ser, somos engolidos e afogados neste mar da sociedade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;V&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Corpus Finitus...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-4961345610843094188?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4961345610843094188/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=4961345610843094188' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4961345610843094188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4961345610843094188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2007/01/populus.html' title='Populus'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-4561157853155557906</id><published>2006-12-29T18:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-29T18:13:19.977Z</updated><title type='text'>Escárnio de Sociedade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Escárnio de sociedade&lt;br /&gt;Demência em si&lt;br /&gt;Tectos que não abrangem&lt;br /&gt;pessoas sem abrigo.&lt;br /&gt;Pontes que não ligam&lt;br /&gt;estradas sem destino&lt;br /&gt;rios que não correm&lt;br /&gt;para oceanos sem maré.&lt;br /&gt;Um ar que não se respira&lt;br /&gt;Pulmões cheios de nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Micróbios ancestrais...&lt;br /&gt;Ar infestado de mentes conturbadas,&lt;br /&gt;é uma sociedade doente..&lt;br /&gt;Sem médico,&lt;br /&gt;Sem cura,&lt;br /&gt;sem poeta que a descreva..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-4561157853155557906?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4561157853155557906/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=4561157853155557906' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4561157853155557906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/4561157853155557906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/12/escrnio-de-sociedade.html' title='Escárnio de Sociedade'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-2283309006995839801</id><published>2006-12-19T01:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-19T01:22:30.039Z</updated><title type='text'>Excertos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Não me leias a vida como se se tratasse dum livro aberto a todos (Peço-te uma vez mais)... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Quando os teus olhos em mim pousam com esse teu brilho especial, sem nenhum esforço, despes-me de preconceitos, despes-me de mim próprio.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Um olhar teu e eu deixo de me pertencer, sinto-me vaguear entre estas incertezas de mim mesmo. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Face rosada... Sim, a minha, devo corar sempre que me olhas. Devo e deverei sempre fazê-lo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Lês o meu ser como nunca ninguém se atreveu a ler! E entre sentimentos ocultos e sangue a fluir, os meus olhos escapam dos teus...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Permite-me que o faça por breves momentos, sim só por breves momentos só o tempo de eu sentir Saudades do teu olhar e isso demora só uns breves instantes, talvez até menos.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Embaraça-me que me leias assim de forma tão natural, mas gosto... Gosto que me faças corar, gosto que me faças viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-2283309006995839801?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2283309006995839801/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=2283309006995839801' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2283309006995839801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/2283309006995839801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/12/excertos.html' title='Excertos...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116540266502836759</id><published>2006-12-13T10:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T11:29:06.346Z</updated><title type='text'>Memórias Esquecidas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A sombra que a ninguém corresponde,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;a presença de algo que não está..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dou contigo de tesoura na mão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;a tentar cortar os laços que te une a qualquer coisa..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;digo-te apenas que provavelmente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;há muito que essa corda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;esticou e rebentou..Definitivamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;reparo agora que deixas-te de olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;de sentir e mesmo de viver,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;vejo eu então&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;que se houve coisa perfeita,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;foi a tua imperfeição em fazer por viver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Nem um som..Só um!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Pegas agora na tesoura e tentas cortar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;em ti as memórias do teu passado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;mas é tarde.. tarde demais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Essas memórias esquecidas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;assombram-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Perdes por completo a noção de..Ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116540266502836759?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116540266502836759/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116540266502836759' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116540266502836759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116540266502836759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/12/memrias-esquecidas.html' title='Memórias Esquecidas'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116419931910600115</id><published>2006-11-22T12:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-22T22:05:15.246Z</updated><title type='text'>Life Wasted</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;You're always saying that there's something wrong...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm starting to believe it's your plan all along...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Death came around, forced to hear its song...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; And know tomorrow can't be depended on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I seen the home inside your head,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; All locked doors and unmade beds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Open sores unattended&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Let me say just once that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I have faced it,... A life wasted,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm never going back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I escaped it,... A life wasted,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm never going back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Having tasted,... A life wasted,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm never going back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; The world awaits just up the stairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Leave the pain for someone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Nothing back there for you to find,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Or was it you, you left behind?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; You're always saying you're too weak to be strong...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; You're harder on yourself than just about anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Why swim the channel just to get this far?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Halfway there, why would you turn around?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Darkness comes in waves,... tell me,why invite it to stay?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; You're warm with negativity, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Yes, comfort is an energy,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; But why let the sad song play?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I have faced it,... A life wasted,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm never going back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I escaped it,... A life wasted,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm never going back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Having tasted,... A life wasted,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm never going back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Oh I erased it,... A life wasted,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I'm never going back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Pearl Jam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116419931910600115?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116419931910600115/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116419931910600115' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116419931910600115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116419931910600115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/life-wasted.html' title='Life Wasted'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116419910930439820</id><published>2006-11-22T12:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-22T21:59:41.863Z</updated><title type='text'>Wasted Reprise</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I have faced it, a life wasted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm never going back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Having tasted, a life wasted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm never going back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I escaped it, a life wasted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm never going back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Pearl Jam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116419910930439820?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116419910930439820/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116419910930439820' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116419910930439820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116419910930439820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/wasted-reprise.html' title='Wasted Reprise'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116326236873834079</id><published>2006-11-11T16:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-24T15:18:18.746Z</updated><title type='text'>Lágrimas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;De Lágrima em lágrima&lt;br /&gt;sem pousar tu vais voando&lt;br /&gt;com o corpo inerte de chão a chão&lt;br /&gt;sem parar te vais evitando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No teu rio lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;sentes-te só e a tua alma treme&lt;br /&gt;sem sentido de horizonte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;navegas tu sem nenhum leme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sem dares por isso da noite veio o dia&lt;br /&gt;do reflexo das tuas lágrimas pelo teu rosto&lt;br /&gt;rapidamente a tristeza torturou a alegria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;essas lágrimas que jorram sem abrandar&lt;br /&gt;essas lágrimas que magoam sem sentido&lt;br /&gt;nascem nos teus olhos que gritam sem parar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116326236873834079?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116326236873834079/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116326236873834079' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116326236873834079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116326236873834079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/lgrimas.html' title='Lágrimas'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116291840185249981</id><published>2006-11-07T16:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-11T14:26:55.050Z</updated><title type='text'>Doce Pecado</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Doce pecado esse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;que te chama por entre labaredas sem cor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Percorres esse incêndio de sangue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e tormentos de dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;O teu incêndio que o teu pecado ateou,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;fogo esse que te  consome cada vez com mais força.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Queima-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Esse fogo sem cor arde em ti,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a chama invisível percorre todo o teu corpo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;queima-te tudo o que tu és ou poderias ser,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;esse doce pecado que tanto cobiçaste,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;fez de ti mártir duma causa que agora sabes..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não ser a tua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Esse doce pecado que tanto lamentas..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Reduziu-te a cinzas..Incendiou-te a alma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;És agora..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mártir da luta que lutaste,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mesmo não sendo a tua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Vítima da vida que não viveste,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;por não a considerares tua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116291840185249981?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116291840185249981/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116291840185249981' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116291840185249981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116291840185249981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/11/doce-pecado.html' title='Doce Pecado'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116173779559003352</id><published>2006-10-25T01:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T02:02:09.353+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Esqueletos</title><content type='html'>O corpo deixado ao acaso,&lt;br /&gt;alguém que a sorte traiu.&lt;br /&gt;O sangue em ti já não corre&lt;br /&gt;pela vida que ja viveu.&lt;br /&gt;Cada gota do teu sangue caiu,&lt;br /&gt;gota a gota...desapareceu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conta-as(fazes-me esse favor?),&lt;br /&gt;e quando chegar a ultima,&lt;br /&gt;deixas-me ter o prazer de ser eu a tirar-ta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apenas quero que sejas o meu esqueleto no armário,&lt;br /&gt;como tantos outros que tu tens no teu..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116173779559003352?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116173779559003352/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116173779559003352' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116173779559003352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116173779559003352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/esqueletos.html' title='Esqueletos'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116110009759062878</id><published>2006-10-17T16:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T17:53:09.403+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Escolhas sem rumo</title><content type='html'>Caminhas entre a multidão,&lt;br /&gt;percorres esses ténues caminhos&lt;br /&gt;e cada gota do teu sangue treme&lt;br /&gt;enquanto enfrentas esses rostos sem cara,&lt;br /&gt;caminhos ao acaso, escolhas sem rumo.&lt;br /&gt;Aceleras o teu passo,&lt;br /&gt;não interessa o destino,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foges!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foges nem tu sabes do quê,&lt;br /&gt;interessa-te fugir,&lt;br /&gt;porque pra ti só viverás,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto fugires..&lt;br /&gt;se parares,&lt;br /&gt;se deixares de fugir,&lt;br /&gt;a multidão irá engolir-te,&lt;br /&gt;e gritarás...&lt;br /&gt;mas o silêncio cortante&lt;br /&gt;da multidão irá abafar o teu grito,&lt;br /&gt;irás sentir o chão abater-se,&lt;br /&gt;e perdes o sentido de tudo,&lt;br /&gt;e da vida..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é bizarro?&lt;br /&gt;Num dia evitas tudo,&lt;br /&gt;para no outro não teres nada..&lt;br /&gt;Algum dia irás parar para pensar&lt;br /&gt;Que podes lutar pela vida e viver sem fugir?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116110009759062878?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116110009759062878/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116110009759062878' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116110009759062878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116110009759062878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/escolhas-sem-rumo.html' title='Escolhas sem rumo'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116049256620918091</id><published>2006-10-10T15:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T16:08:29.950+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rio Vermelho</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;No meio de tantos caminhos por ti ja percorridos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ja pensaste olhar para baixo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;e ver o rio de sangue que corre a teus pés?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Longe vai a última vez que o teu olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;não vê a não ser o céu e o próprio ego..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Mas o céu mudou.. algo o escureceu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Lentamente cedes e baixas o olhar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Interrogas-te agora que olhas para baixo..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;que rio vermelho é o que pisas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;e que te tinge os pés.. preocupa-te que seja teu,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;mas rapidamente sabes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;que não tens nenhuma dor que o justifique,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;procuras por alguém a quem falar do sucedido,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;sem sucesso..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Ninguém passa por onde tu andas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não vês vivalma no teu caminho vermelho..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A solidão apodera-se de ti, o medo cresce..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;até que te apercebes,&lt;br /&gt;por entre vagas memórias e imagens soltas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;o que é o rio vermelho que pisas,&lt;br /&gt;e então..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sentes-lo a ganhar vida,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;lentamente sobe e cerca-te,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;é o sangue de todos os que pisaste no teu caminho..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;é a vida de todos os que te eram indiferentes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;e tu atropelas-te sem dó..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O medo irá gerar em ti uma espécie de remorso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;soltas uma lágrima e um grito abafado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;enquanto te afogas no rio que tu criaste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116049256620918091?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116049256620918091/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116049256620918091' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116049256620918091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116049256620918091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/rio-vermelho.html' title='Rio Vermelho'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116022256334813416</id><published>2006-10-07T12:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T18:47:59.400+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lê-me e Sangra</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Haveria eu de ser esse poeta que me achas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Confesso que gostava,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;gostava que as minhas palavras fossem fortes e cortantes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;gostava que as minhas palavras fossem armas letais,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;e eu um assassino invisível e silencioso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;armado com essas palavras mortais e as usa-se,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;                                em ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Gostava de ser um poeta que tivesse esse poder em ti,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;gostava de poder dilacerar cada pedaço teu,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;cada gota do teu sangue iria saltar por cada letra dum verso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teria o prazer de sorrir enquanto fazia das palavras a minha espada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;para combater todo o teu ser só por me leres,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Irias ler-me e sangrar..e eu iria rejubilar de alegria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Confesso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Nasce-me um brilho no meu olhar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;imaginando o teu olhar ávido a percorrer estas palavras,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;e devorando-as,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;nascerá um pingo de medo em ti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Uma gota de sangue tua por cima dum verso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;era o mínimo que eu gostava agora..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Haveria eu de ser esse poeta que me acham,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;sei que um dia o poderei ser,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;sei que esse dia de desembainhar a minha espada de palavras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;chegará.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;E aí, terás cicatrizes de versos meus por todo o teu ser,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Vais-me Ler e Sangrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sei-o e confesso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Que o desejo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Quando eu for esse poeta que me achas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116022256334813416?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116022256334813416/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116022256334813416' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116022256334813416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116022256334813416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/l-me-e-sangra.html' title='Lê-me e Sangra'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-116022198935337715</id><published>2006-10-07T12:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T13:34:30.206+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nevoeiro</title><content type='html'>Trilhava caminhos familiares,&lt;br /&gt;mas mesmo assim perdi-me.&lt;br /&gt;Perdi-me no nevoeiro&lt;br /&gt;essa neblina cerrada,&lt;br /&gt;cerca-me...&lt;br /&gt;restringe-me e aperta-me&lt;br /&gt;com os seus dedos frios e humidos,&lt;br /&gt;puxam-me e agarram-me&lt;br /&gt;gela-me o sangue,&lt;br /&gt;O frio aperta.&lt;br /&gt;Nem uma luz penetra na névoa densa,&lt;br /&gt;ventos húmidos entre o nevoeiro,&lt;br /&gt;indicam-me o caminho..&lt;br /&gt;o seu caminho.&lt;br /&gt;Limitam-me as escolhas,&lt;br /&gt;até ás suas,&lt;br /&gt;tapando-me os olhos,&lt;br /&gt;fazem-me perder-me em caminhos que ja trilhei&lt;br /&gt;as sombras movimentam-se na penumbra,&lt;br /&gt;Passam ao de leve,&lt;br /&gt;empurram-me mesmo quando não me tocam,&lt;br /&gt;caras desfiguradas,&lt;br /&gt;de traços familiares..&lt;br /&gt;Reconheço algumas para depois as esquecer,&lt;br /&gt;Mergulho no nevoeiro,&lt;br /&gt;mas é um mergulho sem fim.&lt;br /&gt;O frio aumenta..&lt;br /&gt;o calor aqui não tem pé,&lt;br /&gt;aqui nos confins do nevoeiro, até o sol tem frio.&lt;br /&gt;Cansado.&lt;br /&gt;Descanso, o frio gelou-me as forças,&lt;br /&gt;a minha cabeça mistura-se com o nevoeiro,&lt;br /&gt;a minha mente já ela própria é uma neblina interior.&lt;br /&gt;Arrefeço por dentro..&lt;br /&gt;o meu sangue perdeu o calor.&lt;br /&gt;neste nevoeiro incolor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-116022198935337715?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116022198935337715/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=116022198935337715' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116022198935337715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/116022198935337715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/nevoeiro.html' title='Nevoeiro'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115971727319974922</id><published>2006-10-01T16:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T00:04:17.466+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Toque Cego</title><content type='html'>Nuvens que cobrem o céu,&lt;br /&gt;tapam a lua ofuscando a sua luz,&lt;br /&gt;tornam a noite escura e sombria,&lt;br /&gt;fazem de cada canto um mistério,&lt;br /&gt;onde se pode fazer mil e uma coisas,&lt;br /&gt;ou não fazer nada,&lt;br /&gt;fazem com que cada toque seja quase em segredo,&lt;br /&gt;mas mesmo na escuridão da noite,&lt;br /&gt;trepam-se as barreiras que construímos,&lt;br /&gt;quebram-se as juras que fizemos..&lt;br /&gt;Perdemo-nos nessas sombras,&lt;br /&gt;guiamo-nos apenas pelo toque e cheiro..&lt;br /&gt;de repente dispersam-se as nuvens,&lt;br /&gt;a lua ilumina em pleno agora,&lt;br /&gt;é lua cheia,&lt;br /&gt;a lua dos amantes.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez também nós nos iremos dispersar..&lt;br /&gt;Apesar que agora,&lt;br /&gt;agora..&lt;br /&gt;Vemos agora as nossas barreiras derrubadas&lt;br /&gt;e as juras abatidas no chão..&lt;br /&gt;vemo-nos então, frente a frente..&lt;br /&gt;como nunca tinhamos estado,&lt;br /&gt;e então,&lt;br /&gt;o toque e o cheiro deixam de ser o mesmo..&lt;br /&gt;Parece que apenas..&lt;br /&gt;Apenas,&lt;br /&gt;Nos entendemos e queremos..&lt;br /&gt;em toques cegos, e secretos apertos..&lt;br /&gt;na noite escura e fria.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115971727319974922?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115971727319974922/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115971727319974922' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115971727319974922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115971727319974922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/10/toque-cego.html' title='Toque Cego'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115913116473349541</id><published>2006-09-24T21:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T12:51:51.110+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Last night..</title><content type='html'>Last night.. breaking the hollow&lt;br /&gt;the wind hissed between trees,&lt;br /&gt;whispering words i don't expect to hear&lt;br /&gt;my will stands in valley of dreams,&lt;br /&gt;but&lt;br /&gt;Long time ago,&lt;br /&gt;my mind and my soul closed the door of that valley..&lt;br /&gt;locked it and hidden the key,&lt;br /&gt;Forgotten..&lt;br /&gt;I Stand, until last night..&lt;br /&gt;under clouds and shy stars,&lt;br /&gt;I glimpsed the key,&lt;br /&gt;the key...&lt;br /&gt;Of Valley of Dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Will i may open the door,&lt;br /&gt;and walk inside the valley,&lt;br /&gt;the key, i guess that already found&lt;br /&gt;it remains gets the key,&lt;br /&gt;hold it in my hand&lt;br /&gt;and get inside the road..&lt;br /&gt;in valley of dreams, that i found&lt;br /&gt;Last night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115913116473349541?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115913116473349541/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115913116473349541' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115913116473349541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115913116473349541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/last-night.html' title='Last night..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115901808049964986</id><published>2006-09-23T14:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-23T14:28:00.513+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Noite Cerrada</title><content type='html'>É noite cerrada,&lt;br /&gt;o vento sopra e a chuva cai intensamente..&lt;br /&gt;num gesto que parecia ser de rotina&lt;br /&gt;olho para o meu lado...&lt;br /&gt;Mas esse lado está vazio.&lt;br /&gt;Inesperadamente sorrio..&lt;br /&gt;Oiço agora a chuva a anunciar a&lt;br /&gt;tempestade que se aproxima..&lt;br /&gt;recolhem-se as pessoas para o seu abrigo..&lt;br /&gt;onde com o passar da tempestade&lt;br /&gt;seja ela forte o fraca poderão estar seguras&lt;br /&gt;até que a chuva pare, até que a tempestade passe.&lt;br /&gt;Aí irão sair dos abrigos, alguns temporarios,&lt;br /&gt;outros os seus próprios abrigos..&lt;br /&gt;É importante cada um se sentir seguro&lt;br /&gt;seja em que abrigo for,&lt;br /&gt;é importante termos o nosso próprio abrigo&lt;br /&gt;porque não há so uma tempestade,&lt;br /&gt;nem há so um raiar do sol..&lt;br /&gt;Volto a Sorrir..&lt;br /&gt;Irei eu ter esse abrigo um dia,&lt;br /&gt;até lá.. enfrento a tempestade de frente.&lt;br /&gt;Não temendo, mas respeitando.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115901808049964986?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115901808049964986/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115901808049964986' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115901808049964986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115901808049964986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/noite-cerrada.html' title='Noite Cerrada'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115669995372310309</id><published>2006-09-08T18:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T18:26:56.696+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Intimidades</title><content type='html'>Partilhámos a nossa intimidade,&lt;br /&gt;demos de nós o que mais tinhamos,&lt;br /&gt;Partilhámos tanto.. e nada foi ao acaso&lt;br /&gt;para dum momento para o outro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdermos o toque,&lt;br /&gt;o nosso toque,&lt;br /&gt;e a partir daí,&lt;br /&gt;do tudo ao nada,&lt;br /&gt;de conforto à solidão,&lt;br /&gt;do correr ao arrastar,&lt;br /&gt;do gritar ao múrmurio,&lt;br /&gt;do sorrir... ao entristecer..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do nós, ao não te conheço..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intimidades tivemos,&lt;br /&gt;e tudo foi demais..&lt;br /&gt;foi demais.. porque acabou.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115669995372310309?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115669995372310309/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115669995372310309' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115669995372310309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115669995372310309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/intimidades.html' title='Intimidades'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115757211144801565</id><published>2006-09-06T20:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T20:48:31.463+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I Got Id</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My lips are shakin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My nails are bit off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its been a month since Ive heard myself talk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Only advantage this lifes got on me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Picture a cup in the middle of the sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And I fought back in my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Never lets me be right...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I got memories, I got shit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So much it dont show...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, I walked the line...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When you held me in at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, I walked the line...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When you held my hand and i...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On empty shells seem so easy to crack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Got all these questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dont know who I could even ask&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So Ill just lie down and wait for the dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Where Im not ugly and youre lookin at me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And Ill stay in bed...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, little Ive seen there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;If just once I could be loved...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, Id stare back at me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, I walked the line...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When you held me in at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, I walked the line...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When you held my hand and i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, I walked the line...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When you held me close at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, I paid the price...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Never held you in your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Pearl Jam - I Got Id&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115757211144801565?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115757211144801565/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115757211144801565' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115757211144801565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115757211144801565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-got-id.html' title='I Got Id'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115738147401097216</id><published>2006-09-04T15:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T15:51:14.166+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight</title><content type='html'>Tonight i'm not a child anymore,&lt;br /&gt;i won't cry the tears that i used to cry,&lt;br /&gt;in the midlle of silence i'll whisper your name,&lt;br /&gt;and you'll scream mine, but it's that ok..&lt;br /&gt;the road tear us apart,&lt;br /&gt;and no longer we'll meet each other&lt;br /&gt;like we used to do,&lt;br /&gt;we can't.. we won't do it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because Tonight we aren't a child anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, we'll be lovers from someone else..&lt;br /&gt;forget the bows that keep us together even far away..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we could spend all of our times breathing&lt;br /&gt;just to know that we can live without each other..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tomorrow, we'll wake up..&lt;br /&gt;with the smell, the touch and&lt;br /&gt;the dream of someone else dream..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we'll see, that tonight..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115738147401097216?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115738147401097216/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115738147401097216' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115738147401097216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115738147401097216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/09/tonight.html' title='Tonight'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115625492705025191</id><published>2006-08-22T14:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T18:17:31.726+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Diferentes linguas</title><content type='html'>Pudera eu andar por aí e passar despercebido,&lt;br /&gt;haveria eu de tentar comunicar e ninguém me perceber,&lt;br /&gt;andamos nesta vida, e a verdade é que nem sempre eu ou tu falando a mesma língua, nem sempre falamos o mesmo dialecto, ou no mesmo tom, a ideia por mais semelhante que seja perde-se. Incompreendida.. Conversamos e tu ouves-me, mas não entendes, acenas a cabeça como que a acompanhar a conversa mas na verdade procuras em ti um dicionário para o que falamos, incompreendemo-nos um ao outro. No meio de tanta troca verbal, perdemos a fala em si, falamos por falar sem saber o que dizer que seja no mesmo tom e sentimento. Falaria eu com alguém que não conheço, um perfeito estranho e poderíamos falar a mesma língua e trocar ideias, falaria eu contigo e nunca iria sair da conversa sem rumo e sem cor que nos caracteriza. Porquê? Nem no meio de todas as nossas conversas e desatinos, perdemo-nos, perdemos a interpretação própria que era nossa, minha e tua, perdeu-se. E com isso perdemo-nos nós, sem rumo e sem mais do que.. falar diferentes línguas, sem tom ou dialecto que nos permita conversar e compreender que.. apenas fiamos as nossas palavras para não nos deixarmos de ter contacto.. falamos apenas porque tem de o ser, porque é o hábito, porque é o que temos feito.. e iremos continuar a fazer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115625492705025191?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115625492705025191/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115625492705025191' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115625492705025191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115625492705025191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/diferentes-linguas.html' title='Diferentes linguas'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115616019457047958</id><published>2006-08-21T12:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T13:04:06.906+01:00</updated><title type='text'>À beira-mar</title><content type='html'>Parado,&lt;br /&gt;sentado na areia À beira-mar,&lt;br /&gt;cabeça cheia e vazia,&lt;br /&gt;sem inspiração,&lt;br /&gt;ali procurei o que queria,&lt;br /&gt;encontrando o que não queria.&lt;br /&gt;Pus-me a pensar, nem sei em quê...&lt;br /&gt;Perdi-me nos desatinos do pensamento&lt;br /&gt;sem destino,&lt;br /&gt;Um grito de gaivota traz-me de volta,&lt;br /&gt;de novo olho o mar,&lt;br /&gt;entre ondas a rebentar e a enrolar na areia,&lt;br /&gt;quase me perdia e desaparecia&lt;br /&gt;como desaparece uma pegada&lt;br /&gt;na areia com o passar da onda,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despertei,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suspirei,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e levantei-me,&lt;br /&gt;a pressa e a vontade de viver deu sinal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não nos podemos deixar ser apenas mais uma pegada&lt;br /&gt;na areia molhada,&lt;br /&gt;cada um tem o seu dever de fazer por si..&lt;br /&gt;tentar até que mesmo uma pegada na areia não seja apagada&lt;br /&gt;pelas onda por mais fortes que sejam,&lt;br /&gt;pode-se fazer isso.. pode-se deixar essa marca..&lt;br /&gt;cada um pode deixar a sua marca, desde que lute por isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115616019457047958?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115616019457047958/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115616019457047958' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115616019457047958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115616019457047958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/beira-mar.html' title='À beira-mar'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115505516663944951</id><published>2006-08-08T17:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T12:22:25.730+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sinto</title><content type='html'>Sinto que há em mim um buraco enorme.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que carrego um peso que não consigo suportar.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que nada me satisfaz.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que a solidão é  minha companheira.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que o sol não tem brilho e a lua não pertence à noite.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que as flores não têm cheiro.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que o mar é seco e sem vida.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que talvez me falte tudo.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que talvez esteja incompleto..&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que talvez ja tenha tudo..e não o saiba&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que preciso de despertar e respirar o meu ar.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115505516663944951?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115505516663944951/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115505516663944951' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115505516663944951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115505516663944951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/08/sinto.html' title='Sinto'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115399312992250504</id><published>2006-07-27T10:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T10:38:49.936+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Cause Love You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When I’m feeling down nothing seems ok&lt;br /&gt;          I see your eyes and I believe we'll find a way&lt;br /&gt;When I’m feeling down thing's don't go so well&lt;br /&gt;I see your eyes and I forget the tears that fell       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I’m alone in the street, when I’m scared&lt;br /&gt;and tired&lt;br /&gt;          For the first time in my whole life I feel desired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;          When I’m far from home and I just don't want to&lt;br /&gt;be found&lt;br /&gt;          I run into your arms and they bring my feet back&lt;br /&gt;to the ground       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause to Love you means so much more&lt;br /&gt;When I need to cry you make me try&lt;br /&gt;          I want to die you ask me why&lt;br /&gt;          ‘Cause I can’t fight no more&lt;br /&gt;          When I wanted to stop&lt;br /&gt;          When I wanted to fail&lt;br /&gt;          I saw your eyes and I believed there's so much more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Fingertips - Cause Love You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115399312992250504?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115399312992250504/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115399312992250504' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115399312992250504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115399312992250504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/cause-love-you.html' title='&apos;Cause Love You'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115295988271426071</id><published>2006-07-15T11:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T11:59:33.173+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Missing....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Ando à deriva de tudo o que faço,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;perco-me na minha mente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;não me encontro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;tu não me encontras,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ao longe ouve-se uma música..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: right;font-family:times new roman;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt; "...Isn't something missing?..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Divagueio por entre caminhos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Ruas e ruelas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;becos sem saída..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;sempre sozinho..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;acompanha-me a minha sombra,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;mas até ela se sente só..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: right;font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt; "...I'm all alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt; Isn't someone missing me?..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;encosto-me à parede,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;sinto-me mergulhar no meu mundo de ilusão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;não adianta nada chamar por alguém..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;sei que todos já se foram,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;implorar por companhia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;implorar por alguém...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Nada serve, nada mesmo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Grita-se num múrmurio..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;mas silêncio é a resposta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;nem implorando se consegue..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;A solidão..é densa, escura como a noite,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;e não tem amigos..nem felicidade&lt;br /&gt;outrora um sorriso..perdeu-se.&lt;br /&gt;apareceu um olhar vazio,&lt;br /&gt;vazio de nada ver,&lt;br /&gt;vazio por nada o preencher..&lt;br /&gt;vou só dormir, dormir por&lt;br /&gt;não ter força para essa luta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt; "...Isn't something missing?&lt;br /&gt;Isn't someone missing me?..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115295988271426071?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115295988271426071/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115295988271426071' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115295988271426071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115295988271426071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/something-missing.html' title='Something Missing....'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115295474504546588</id><published>2006-07-15T10:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T10:12:25.073+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Retrato de preocupação</title><content type='html'>Preocupo-me noite e dia,&lt;br /&gt;preocupo-me entre as horas indefinidas&lt;br /&gt;da noite e do dia.&lt;br /&gt;Perco-me entre um sim e um não,&lt;br /&gt;num mar de dúvidas, incertezas e probabilidades.&lt;br /&gt;Falhanços&lt;br /&gt;(Sim eu falho..)&lt;br /&gt;e algumas vitórias..&lt;br /&gt;A dor da tristeza&lt;br /&gt;de se perder,&lt;br /&gt;de não se tentar,&lt;br /&gt;Conforma-se quando se tenta&lt;br /&gt;e se perde, ao menos sabe-se..&lt;br /&gt;A alegria da vitória..&lt;br /&gt;Continua a incerteza.&lt;br /&gt;Um Toque,&lt;br /&gt;uma conversa,&lt;br /&gt;Tudo e Nada..&lt;br /&gt;Me preocupa.&lt;br /&gt;O aconchego que não chega,&lt;br /&gt;a solidão que não parte,&lt;br /&gt;Estou onde estou,&lt;br /&gt;com a multidão ou não,&lt;br /&gt;e não estou com nínguém,&lt;br /&gt;não pertenço ali,&lt;br /&gt;nunca pertenci..&lt;br /&gt;O que me preenche é o vazio..&lt;br /&gt;Mas tu...Preocupas-me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115295474504546588?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115295474504546588/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115295474504546588' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115295474504546588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115295474504546588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/retrato-de-preocupao.html' title='Retrato de preocupação'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114908455149470977</id><published>2006-07-07T19:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T19:52:03.616+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O tempo e as palavras</title><content type='html'>Um momento&lt;br /&gt;uma palavra a mais&lt;br /&gt;um suspiro&lt;br /&gt;um dia negro&lt;br /&gt;uma porta que se fecha&lt;br /&gt;um tempo que passou..&lt;br /&gt;uma palavra gasta..&lt;br /&gt;e mal interpretada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num momento,&lt;br /&gt;quebrou-se o ciclo,&lt;br /&gt;quebrou-se o olhar,&lt;br /&gt;quebrou-se a confiança,&lt;br /&gt;sente-se falhar..&lt;br /&gt;sente-se desmoronar..&lt;br /&gt;sente-se impotência,&lt;br /&gt;para tudo recuperar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia foi bom,&lt;br /&gt;uma hora incrível,&lt;br /&gt;um minuto sem palavras,&lt;br /&gt;num segundo..&lt;br /&gt;tudo se estragou..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o dia tão perfeito que foi,&lt;br /&gt;acabou ali,&lt;br /&gt;tal como a primavera dá a vez ao verão,&lt;br /&gt;a alegria deu a vez.. à solidão.&lt;br /&gt;Foram tempos e palavras,&lt;br /&gt;a mais.. tudo a mais..&lt;br /&gt;o que houve a menos,&lt;br /&gt;permanece fora de tempo..&lt;br /&gt;e sem palavras para caminhar.&lt;br /&gt;Chove a mais para o tempo,&lt;br /&gt;mas..molhar não molha,&lt;br /&gt;corta-nos a palavra,&lt;br /&gt;fere-nos...&lt;br /&gt;arranha e mantém&lt;br /&gt;nesta prisão de tempo..&lt;br /&gt;feita por uma palavra..&lt;br /&gt;a mais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114908455149470977?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114908455149470977/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114908455149470977' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114908455149470977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114908455149470977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/o-tempo-e-as-palavras.html' title='O tempo e as palavras'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114996170649624508</id><published>2006-07-07T19:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T19:39:35.886+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tal como realmente é..</title><content type='html'>Olhares perdidos quando nada se encontra,&lt;br /&gt;falta-me algo que não sei bem o que é..&lt;br /&gt;penso procurar o que é..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Preguiça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; É tão mais fácil assumir que não vale a pena,&lt;br /&gt;que está tudo como deve ser e ali parar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A dúvida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; deixar de lutar e assumir que errei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A Certeza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; Mas não, lutar não é isso,&lt;br /&gt;não é o lamentar por cada batalha perdida,&lt;br /&gt;é sim apesar da derrota duma batalha enfrentar outra&lt;br /&gt;com a cara levantada e a mesma vontade,&lt;br /&gt;apesar de poder ser muito mais dificil que a anterior.&lt;br /&gt;Nunca é uma luta em vão.. se for a nossa luta,&lt;br /&gt;lutemos então pela nossa certeza..&lt;br /&gt;se realmente quisermos... não se desiste..&lt;br /&gt;não conseguimos.. lutamos até não termos força,&lt;br /&gt;e não se chora por doer para lá chegar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;O fim de uma busca.. é a nossa satisfação&lt;br /&gt;de que encontrámos o que realmente queríamos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114996170649624508?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114996170649624508/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114996170649624508' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114996170649624508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114996170649624508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/tal-como-realmente.html' title='Tal como realmente é..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115134513265699156</id><published>2006-07-07T19:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T19:34:48.166+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Já perdi a conta..</title><content type='html'>Já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;tentei contar as estrelas,&lt;br /&gt;já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;me perdi por caminhos&lt;br /&gt;já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;respirei o ar que podia ser de outra pessoa...&lt;br /&gt;já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;parei quando podia andar..&lt;br /&gt;já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;numa sala apinhada de gente me senti só..&lt;br /&gt;já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;de tudo preferi o nada..&lt;br /&gt;já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;no meio do nada achei tudo e no meio de tudo fiquei com nada&lt;br /&gt;já perdi a conta ás vezes&lt;br /&gt;que&lt;br /&gt;escrevi por escrever...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115134513265699156?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115134513265699156/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115134513265699156' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115134513265699156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115134513265699156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/j-perdi-conta.html' title='Já perdi a conta..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115226922447659171</id><published>2006-07-07T11:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T19:25:54.240+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A noite e o dia</title><content type='html'>A noite..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Fiel companheira..&lt;br /&gt;escura,&lt;br /&gt;sombria,&lt;br /&gt;nem sempre iluminado pela lua,&lt;br /&gt;o vento nocturno sopra..,&lt;br /&gt;uma brisa ..&lt;br /&gt;perde-se na noite..&lt;br /&gt;os nossos olhos ofuscados pela brisa..&lt;br /&gt;perdemo-nos de nós,&lt;br /&gt;até que chega o dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dia..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;claridade..&lt;br /&gt;luz a mais..seja como for,&lt;br /&gt;ventos de tempestade,&lt;br /&gt;ventos de calor,&lt;br /&gt;iluminados,&lt;br /&gt;sem medo de soprar..&lt;br /&gt;fechamos os olhos,&lt;br /&gt;pela luz do sol,&lt;br /&gt;pelo calor do seu carinho..&lt;br /&gt;pela frieza da sua luz..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115226922447659171?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115226922447659171/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115226922447659171' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115226922447659171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115226922447659171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/07/noite-e-o-dia.html' title='A noite e o dia'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115143457521283153</id><published>2006-06-27T19:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T19:56:15.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A busca..para um fim</title><content type='html'>Procuro na noite aquilo que perdi de dia,&lt;br /&gt;procuro na dor o que me roubou a alegria,&lt;br /&gt;finjo que encontro nem eu sei bem o que,&lt;br /&gt;perco-me a mim no meio do meu mundo de buscas..&lt;br /&gt;Arde a chama, queima o que em mim há..&lt;br /&gt;queima-me por dentro,&lt;br /&gt;queima o que já lá não está..&lt;br /&gt;Faço com que tudo seja colorido e sorridente..&lt;br /&gt;corto-me..&lt;br /&gt;sim corto-me de tudo, do mundo..&lt;br /&gt;arranco pedaços de mim,&lt;br /&gt;pedaço a pedaço, a carne sai..&lt;br /&gt;gota a gota, o meu sangue flui...&lt;br /&gt;aos poucos a minha alma vai..&lt;br /&gt;em busca de aquilo que eu já fui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115143457521283153?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115143457521283153/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115143457521283153' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115143457521283153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115143457521283153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/buscapara-um-fim.html' title='A busca..para um fim'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114996459366638644</id><published>2006-06-27T19:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T20:04:16.070+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um Grão de areia</title><content type='html'>Sentado sem saber o que esperar&lt;br /&gt;sem sequer perceber porque respirar&lt;br /&gt;olhava o mar e todos os grãos de areia à minha volta&lt;br /&gt;me pareciam familiares,&lt;br /&gt;não sabia o que fazia ali,&lt;br /&gt;mas sentia-me apenas mais um grão dessa imensidão de areia,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sentia o vento a bater-me&lt;br /&gt;a contornar-me,&lt;br /&gt;a empurrar-me para todo o lado&lt;br /&gt;e para nenhum..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas asas da brisa algo veio,&lt;br /&gt;o vento amainou,&lt;br /&gt;senti-me crescer,&lt;br /&gt;senti-me realmente ser maior,&lt;br /&gt;maior que um grão de areia,&lt;br /&gt;que apenas espera o passar da onda.&lt;br /&gt;De novo consigo olhar o mar de cima,&lt;br /&gt;até quando..&lt;br /&gt;é agora a pergunta..&lt;br /&gt;até esse dia..&lt;br /&gt;um grão de areia alado serei..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114996459366638644?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114996459366638644/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114996459366638644' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114996459366638644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114996459366638644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/um-gro-de-areia.html' title='Um Grão de areia'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115093622932426776</id><published>2006-06-22T01:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T19:57:21.736+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sempre presente.. o vento</title><content type='html'>Acho que tudo o que vivemos,&lt;br /&gt;está espalhado pelo vento..&lt;br /&gt;Eu espalhei,&lt;br /&gt;espalhei aquela que foi a minha&lt;br /&gt;alegria..&lt;br /&gt;cantei-a ao vento..&lt;br /&gt;para o vento a devolver..&lt;br /&gt;e dizer que devia seguir caminho..&lt;br /&gt;não era a minha cantiga disse-me,&lt;br /&gt;com múrmurios gélidos e ténues..&lt;br /&gt;vi que a estrada não parava ali,&lt;br /&gt;que o vento me empurrava,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto em sussuros me indicava&lt;br /&gt;a verdadeira música,&lt;br /&gt;a que eu iria cantar..&lt;br /&gt;um dia sei que a cantarei...&lt;br /&gt;e sei que também, la estará o vento..&lt;br /&gt;sempre esteve, está agora mesmo..&lt;br /&gt;e estará sempre..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115093622932426776?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115093622932426776/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115093622932426776' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115093622932426776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115093622932426776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/sempre-presente-o-vento.html' title='Sempre presente.. o vento'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115048410769850047</id><published>2006-06-16T19:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T18:16:52.410+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O vento e a criança</title><content type='html'>Aí sentada vejo-te chorar,&lt;br /&gt;choras como há muito não choravas,&lt;br /&gt;clamas por algo que há muito sabes perdido,&lt;br /&gt;tanto lutas-te por aquilo que não querias,&lt;br /&gt;que se tornou a tua obcessão..&lt;br /&gt;e mais tarde na confusão do que realmente querias.&lt;br /&gt;Perdes-te.&lt;br /&gt;Perdes-te e perdes a noção de sentir..&lt;br /&gt;sentada nesse canto escuro eu ja me habituei a ver-te&lt;br /&gt;contorno as tuas lágrimas enquanto acarício o teu rosto&lt;br /&gt;tento abafar o teu choro do mundo..&lt;br /&gt;choras outra vez,&lt;br /&gt;tal como antes e como o será sempre,&lt;br /&gt;és uma criança num mundo de loucos,&lt;br /&gt;e sempre serás tratada como tal,&lt;br /&gt;porque contínuas sentada na sombra&lt;br /&gt;a chorar e sem rir,&lt;br /&gt;tanto que a tua maior força é ditada pelas lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;que jorram da tua cara,&lt;br /&gt;sem dó nem piedade..&lt;br /&gt;e eu esfrio-as ainda mais..&lt;br /&gt;porque eu sou o vento,&lt;br /&gt;ser omnipresente,&lt;br /&gt;sou o vento que te aconchega nesse mar de sombras&lt;br /&gt;em que te escondes..&lt;br /&gt;talvez seja o único abraço que tu tens&lt;br /&gt;enquanto te mantiveres nas sombras,&lt;br /&gt;esperando o dia em que perceberás que tens mais forças&lt;br /&gt;do que a das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;do que a do choro,&lt;br /&gt;tens a força da palavra e da vontade,&lt;br /&gt;da tua própria vontade,&lt;br /&gt;aí serei o vento que te irá fazer voar para onde quiseres..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115048410769850047?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115048410769850047/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115048410769850047' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115048410769850047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115048410769850047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/o-vento-e-criana.html' title='O vento e a criança'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115048351236948841</id><published>2006-06-16T19:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T19:45:12.383+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ao luar</title><content type='html'>Contemplo o luar,&lt;br /&gt;no meio de brisas nocturnas,&lt;br /&gt;e com a lua como testemunha&lt;br /&gt;olho as estrelas que há no céu&lt;br /&gt;e em ti...&lt;br /&gt;perco-me nesta imensidão de noite&lt;br /&gt;e encontro-me a mim,&lt;br /&gt;e com sorte a ti,&lt;br /&gt;neste deserto escuro que brilha para mim.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho a lua como guia,&lt;br /&gt;guia-me para onde me tem que guiar&lt;br /&gt;para onde o meu olhar cansado alcança,&lt;br /&gt;para onde a noite terá um fim,&lt;br /&gt;para onde o sopro da brisa vai e me acompanha,&lt;br /&gt;Para onde tu estarás,&lt;br /&gt;assim eu o espero..&lt;br /&gt;Espero na noite sem fim,&lt;br /&gt;ter-te so para mim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115048351236948841?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115048351236948841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115048351236948841' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115048351236948841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115048351236948841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/ao-luar.html' title='Ao luar'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-115002730001055502</id><published>2006-06-11T12:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T15:43:52.983+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Asas Aladas</title><content type='html'>Aqui sentado,&lt;br /&gt;escutava o vento,&lt;br /&gt;haveria eu de tecer teias,&lt;br /&gt;entre as asas do vento,&lt;br /&gt;pensava para mim,&lt;br /&gt;contava as voltas que o vento dá,&lt;br /&gt;perdia o número de vezes&lt;br /&gt;que recomecei&lt;br /&gt;e voltei a contar..&lt;br /&gt;de costas para tudo..até para mim.&lt;br /&gt;Mas, a brisa chamou-me,&lt;br /&gt;cantou para mim..&lt;br /&gt;um sorriso esbocei,&lt;br /&gt;de curiosidade me enchi,&lt;br /&gt;e foi assim que eu vi,&lt;br /&gt;nas voltas da vida,&lt;br /&gt;nas asas da brisa,&lt;br /&gt;vieram as minhas,&lt;br /&gt;eu próprio sou alado agora,&lt;br /&gt;até quando não sei...&lt;br /&gt;sei que voarei,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto estas asas tiver,&lt;br /&gt;acompanharei o vento&lt;br /&gt;por entre rios e mares,&lt;br /&gt;árvores e arbustros,&lt;br /&gt;montes e vales..&lt;br /&gt;mas voarei..&lt;br /&gt;livre..&lt;br /&gt;que é como realmente me sinto.&lt;br /&gt;Livre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-115002730001055502?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/115002730001055502/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=115002730001055502' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115002730001055502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/115002730001055502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/asas-aladas.html' title='Asas Aladas'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114973033975693840</id><published>2006-06-08T02:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T02:32:19.776+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Efemeridade das coisas</title><content type='html'>tudo na vida é efémero...&lt;br /&gt;tudo passa,&lt;br /&gt;as marcas la ficam,&lt;br /&gt;mas nada é fixo.&lt;br /&gt;O que era ontem,&lt;br /&gt;hoje pode não o ser&lt;br /&gt;e muito menos o será amanha&lt;br /&gt;há que aproveitar as coisas na devida altura..&lt;br /&gt;porque depois do momento,&lt;br /&gt;já é sempre tarde demais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114973033975693840?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114973033975693840/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114973033975693840' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114973033975693840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114973033975693840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/efemeridade-das-coisas.html' title='Efemeridade das coisas'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114933962927379266</id><published>2006-06-03T13:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-03T14:00:29.286+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoje sei que...</title><content type='html'>Os sentimentos não devem ser reprimidos,&lt;br /&gt;mas também,&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre o melhor é mostra-los livremente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minha cabeça tornou-se um caos ordenado...sem rumo e sem saída.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114933962927379266?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114933962927379266/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114933962927379266' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114933962927379266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114933962927379266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/hoje-sei-que.html' title='Hoje sei que...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114928331301495977</id><published>2006-06-02T22:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T22:24:01.110+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Comportably numb..On a Highway to hell</title><content type='html'>Sentado,&lt;br /&gt;sinto-me adormecido&lt;br /&gt;vejo tudo a passar à minha volta,&lt;br /&gt;sem parar, passa tudo demasiado rápido&lt;br /&gt;e eu não faça nada para parar,&lt;br /&gt;lá fora tá um calor insuportavel,&lt;br /&gt;queima-me sem arder..apenas se sente,&lt;br /&gt;como que se anunciasse essa minha sina,&lt;br /&gt;estou adormecido no meu inferno,&lt;br /&gt;onde tudo se queima,&lt;br /&gt;o calor abafa-me e não me larga...&lt;br /&gt;tão somente queria poder&lt;br /&gt;andar e sair do sitio,&lt;br /&gt;falar e ouvir a minha voz,&lt;br /&gt;mas...&lt;br /&gt;não dá,&lt;br /&gt;tenho chamas intensas dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;consomem-me como nenhum outro fogo consumiu&lt;br /&gt;ardo de dentro para fora,&lt;br /&gt;ninguém me verá a arder,&lt;br /&gt;mas o fogo existe..&lt;br /&gt;e consome-me...&lt;br /&gt;e eu para onde quer que me vire,&lt;br /&gt;caminho na direcção dum fogo brilhante&lt;br /&gt;e intenso..&lt;br /&gt;bruscamente algo me acorda..&lt;br /&gt;abro os olhos,&lt;br /&gt;vou numa camioneta..&lt;br /&gt;algures numa auto-estrada sem destino&lt;br /&gt;lá ao fundo.. brilha algo quente..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114928331301495977?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114928331301495977/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114928331301495977' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114928331301495977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114928331301495977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/comportably-numbon-highway-to-hell.html' title='Comportably numb..On a Highway to hell'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114918523859002244</id><published>2006-06-01T19:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T19:56:17.073+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tristeza e alegria..</title><content type='html'>Certo,&lt;br /&gt;escrevemos mais quando estamos tristes..&lt;br /&gt;Facto,&lt;br /&gt;Gosta-se mais de ler a tristeza dos outros,&lt;br /&gt;e comparar com a nossa...&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém gosta de ser&lt;br /&gt;o que realmente mostra na tristeza..&lt;br /&gt;mas não queremos mostrar o que somos na alegria..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114918523859002244?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114918523859002244/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114918523859002244' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114918523859002244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114918523859002244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/tristeza-e-alegria.html' title='Tristeza e alegria..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114912061212662808</id><published>2006-06-01T00:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T01:10:12.146+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Porque foi hoje...</title><content type='html'>Porque foi hoje&lt;br /&gt;que me atirei de cabeça&lt;br /&gt;sem saber onde caía&lt;br /&gt;sem medo da altura da queda&lt;br /&gt;sem nada a perder,&lt;br /&gt;sem saber bem porquê..&lt;br /&gt;mas aparaste-me,&lt;br /&gt;ensinaste-me sem o saberes&lt;br /&gt;talvez coisas que nem tu sonhas&lt;br /&gt;nem eu próprio..&lt;br /&gt;Apesar do nosso desfecho..&lt;br /&gt;o respeito pelo nosso tempo&lt;br /&gt;mantém-se,&lt;br /&gt;e sempre se manterá.&lt;br /&gt;Parece que foi ontem,&lt;br /&gt;mas o tempo voa..e depressa.&lt;br /&gt;A ti, um obrigado&lt;br /&gt;e um Parabéns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666655;"   &gt; I could stay awake just to hear you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Watch you smile while you are sleeping&lt;br /&gt;While you're far away dreaming&lt;br /&gt;I could spend my life in this sweet surrender&lt;br /&gt;I could stay lost in this moment forever&lt;br /&gt;Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'd miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;Cause even when I dream of you&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;br /&gt;I'd still miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lying close to you feeling your heart beating&lt;br /&gt;And I'm wondering what you're dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Wondering if it's me you're seeing&lt;br /&gt;Then I kiss your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And thank God we're together&lt;br /&gt;I just want to stay with you in this moment forever&lt;br /&gt;Forever and ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'd miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;Cause even when I dream of you&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;br /&gt;I'd still miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to miss one smile&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to miss one kiss&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be with you&lt;br /&gt;Right here with you, just like this&lt;br /&gt;I just want to hold you close&lt;br /&gt;Feel your heart so close to mine&lt;br /&gt;And just stay here in this moment&lt;br /&gt;For all the rest of time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'd miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;Cause even when I dream of you&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;br /&gt;I'd still miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#ffffee;"   &gt; AEROSMITH - "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing"    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114912061212662808?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114912061212662808/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114912061212662808' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114912061212662808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114912061212662808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/06/porque-foi-hoje.html' title='Porque foi hoje...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114895374052436219</id><published>2006-05-29T23:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T12:27:14.156+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Outrora...</title><content type='html'>Certo dia um menino sorriu&lt;br /&gt;Certa tarde ela retribuiu,&lt;br /&gt;por entre mares de gente,&lt;br /&gt;gente sem destino,&lt;br /&gt;nada importava,&lt;br /&gt;um beijo aconteceu...&lt;br /&gt;algo aconteceu,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo enfraqueceu,&lt;br /&gt;e da distância veio a dúvida,&lt;br /&gt;e da dúvida o adeus,&lt;br /&gt;não permanente.&lt;br /&gt;O Arrependimento bateu à porta,&lt;br /&gt;ele não soube corresponder,&lt;br /&gt;e ela também não..&lt;br /&gt;encontros e desencontros&lt;br /&gt;até que certa noite,&lt;br /&gt;Ele nos olhos dela olhou,&lt;br /&gt;e viu esse arrependimento,&lt;br /&gt;não apenas o seu,&lt;br /&gt;mas o que julgou ser o dela&lt;br /&gt;viu o beijo que outrora fora dado,&lt;br /&gt;mas acima de tudo,&lt;br /&gt;viu também a dúvida e o adeus...&lt;br /&gt;e então&lt;br /&gt;fez o que nunca devia ter feito,&lt;br /&gt;baixou os olhos&lt;br /&gt;e partiu..&lt;br /&gt;O arrependimento de então..&lt;br /&gt;vive&lt;br /&gt;consome-o,&lt;br /&gt;alimenta-se desse dia..&lt;br /&gt;O tempo não perdoa mesmo nada,&lt;br /&gt;apenas torna tudo muito mais escuro&lt;br /&gt;e sombrio...se ao menos ele&lt;br /&gt;não tivesse desistido...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114895374052436219?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114895374052436219/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114895374052436219' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114895374052436219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114895374052436219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/outrora.html' title='Outrora...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114883615382553614</id><published>2006-05-28T17:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T18:15:58.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Amarras...</title><content type='html'>Ás vezes temos tanta a certeza duma coisa que nem sequer se consegue ver para além de outras opções, ficamos com a vista toldada, apenas se pode confiar que não nos desviemos muito. É como eu ando, com essa certeza toda, mas de mãos atadas e completamente amordaçado, sinto-me censurado por mim próprio, não posso mostrar esta certeza a ninguém e muito menos a devia ter mostrado a mim próprio, aprisionei-me em mim próprio, poderei apenas continuar a divagar em terrenos incertos ou em rios de dúvidas, mas algures, algures nas margens deverá estar algo a que me agarrar, assim o espero, não é meu desejo, nem deve ser o teu nem o de alguém continuar errante eternamente, sou prisioneiro de mim próprio, refém do meu desejo e da minha vontade, do meu querer.&lt;br /&gt;Sei que sou apenas mais um prisioneiro do mundo, mas tal como os outros... espero sempre ser salvo em primeiro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114883615382553614?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114883615382553614/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114883615382553614' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114883615382553614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114883615382553614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/amarras.html' title='Amarras...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114877580098100710</id><published>2006-05-28T01:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T01:28:41.493+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sombras</title><content type='html'>Olho-te e não te posso tocar,&lt;br /&gt;sinto-te mais perto do que&lt;br /&gt;ja alguma vez estivemos,&lt;br /&gt;mas continuo a não te tocar,&lt;br /&gt;és uma sombra do meu pensamento,&lt;br /&gt;algo que quero, mas&lt;br /&gt;quem toca nas sombras?&lt;br /&gt;Conheço-te de cor,&lt;br /&gt;desde o teu sorriso aos teus olhos,&lt;br /&gt;de todos os teus gestos,&lt;br /&gt;os que mais usas,&lt;br /&gt;mas mesmo assim, será sempre nas sombras&lt;br /&gt;apenas nas sombras deste texto te digo,&lt;br /&gt;queria-te e não te tenho,&lt;br /&gt;poderá um dia vir algo&lt;br /&gt;que ilumine mais,&lt;br /&gt;e essa sombra passará a ser algo mais,&lt;br /&gt;e quem sabe..quem sabe&lt;br /&gt;Poderei sim, falar&lt;br /&gt;para mais do que uma sombra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114877580098100710?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114877580098100710/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114877580098100710' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114877580098100710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114877580098100710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/sombras.html' title='Sombras'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114849176485780211</id><published>2006-05-24T18:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T18:29:24.916+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O trilho</title><content type='html'>Percorro este sozinho este trilho,&lt;br /&gt;pisado e usado por alguém,&lt;br /&gt;persigo uma sombra sem destino,&lt;br /&gt;uma vida quase perdida, como a minha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caminhando vou crescendo e sonhando,&lt;br /&gt;ao longe uma música toca e recorda-me&lt;br /&gt;o sorriso que em tempos ja foi meu,&lt;br /&gt;dum sonho desperto, algo me acorda,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este trilho guia-me para onde vou,&lt;br /&gt;muitas alegrias, muitas tristezas,&lt;br /&gt;provavelmente nele encontrarei alento,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;talvez cedo, ou um pouco mais tarde,&lt;br /&gt;não importa, o trilho tem que ser percorrido&lt;br /&gt;e com ele, tudo é vivido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorrisos e desafios esperam-me neste trilho..no meu trilho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114849176485780211?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114849176485780211/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114849176485780211' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114849176485780211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114849176485780211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-trilho.html' title='O trilho'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114803886165300628</id><published>2006-05-19T12:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T12:41:01.690+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fases</title><content type='html'>Hoje é so mais um dia que passou,&lt;br /&gt;mais umas horas ou minutos&lt;br /&gt;onde nada me afectou&lt;br /&gt;porque já andava demasiado perdido.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje foi apenas mais um dia de encontros e desencontros,&lt;br /&gt;onde tu, ele ou ela encontraram alguém,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto os minutos por mim passavam,&lt;br /&gt;entre os dedos me fugiam&lt;br /&gt;e com eles vai correndo a vida.&lt;br /&gt;Apenas mais um dia como tantos outros,&lt;br /&gt;perco-me mas encontro-me passado algum tempo,&lt;br /&gt;só que vai sendo cada vez mais díficil recuperar&lt;br /&gt;as feridas começam a ficar cada vez mais profundas&lt;br /&gt;e mais vastas,&lt;br /&gt;já não atingem ao acaso, agora atingem sempre&lt;br /&gt;onde doi mais.&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho medo de reconhecer que por vezes,&lt;br /&gt;não sei como lutar, vejo-te a lutar e admiro-te,&lt;br /&gt;mas não lutarei a teu lado,&lt;br /&gt;porque ninguém a seguir vai tomar o meu lugar&lt;br /&gt;na minha batalha,&lt;br /&gt;com muito gosto te tomava nos braços.&lt;br /&gt;como se nada fosse, mas eu sei que não pode ser assim,&lt;br /&gt;tu também o sabes, nada é assim tão simples,&lt;br /&gt;tal como o sol traz calor, a ausência da sua luz traz frio.&lt;br /&gt;E não se pode fazer nada para o evitar, são fases...&lt;br /&gt;Apenas se pode esperar que passe..&lt;br /&gt;E dizer baixinho,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;é só mais uma fase má, isto passa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a pressa não vem, não pode vir.&lt;br /&gt;Está reservada para alguém que não eu.&lt;br /&gt;também não a quero, eu preciso é da calma,&lt;br /&gt;essa sim, é boa conselheira.&lt;br /&gt;Com a calma, tudo se resolve,&lt;br /&gt;e quem sabe, serão libertados&lt;br /&gt;suspiros de emoção e não de desilusão,&lt;br /&gt;e possas tu, ele ou ela ter o devido&lt;br /&gt;conforto de quem queiram ou desejem,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto,&lt;br /&gt;eu terei apenas mais um dia que passou.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114803886165300628?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114803886165300628/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114803886165300628' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114803886165300628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114803886165300628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/fases.html' title='Fases'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114764958703678939</id><published>2006-05-15T00:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T00:33:07.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Brisa e o Mar</title><content type='html'>Uma brisa&lt;br /&gt; veio com a maré&lt;br /&gt; entre dunas e vento,&lt;br /&gt; entre sol e calor..&lt;br /&gt; a brisa tudo atropelou&lt;br /&gt; em tudo nos tocou,&lt;br /&gt; nada ficou indiferente,&lt;br /&gt; afectou-nos&lt;br /&gt; como uma rajada de vento&lt;br /&gt; afecta um grão de areia,&lt;br /&gt; a brisa passou,&lt;br /&gt; o toque..esse,&lt;br /&gt; ficou e com ele,&lt;br /&gt; tudo o que era recordado,&lt;br /&gt; no meio de tantos grãos de areia,&lt;br /&gt; eu fui apenas mais um,&lt;br /&gt; no meio do deserto que é&lt;br /&gt; o meu sentir,&lt;br /&gt; o meu querer,&lt;br /&gt; o meu viver,&lt;br /&gt; mais do que uma brisa,&lt;br /&gt; mais do que o calor,&lt;br /&gt; do mar a maré mudou,&lt;br /&gt; com ela mudou a brisa,&lt;br /&gt; novos toques se sentem,&lt;br /&gt; novos calores nos esquentam,&lt;br /&gt; mas so amanhã,&lt;br /&gt; porque hoje vou&lt;br /&gt; irei descansar,&lt;br /&gt; descansar de mim,&lt;br /&gt; de ti, e de quem quer que seja.&lt;br /&gt; Vou descansar,&lt;br /&gt; para um novo toque&lt;br /&gt; da brisa esperar.&lt;br /&gt; Descansarei a olhar para o mar,&lt;br /&gt; foi nele que confiei,&lt;br /&gt; é nele que voltarei a confiar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114764958703678939?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114764958703678939/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114764958703678939' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114764958703678939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114764958703678939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/brisa-e-o-mar.html' title='Brisa e o Mar'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114746096605338242</id><published>2006-05-12T20:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T00:32:31.390+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Momentos</title><content type='html'>Nem tudo o que posso oferecer cabe em ti,&lt;br /&gt;Nem tudo o que te vou dar te irá preencher,&lt;br /&gt;nem tudo são momentos memoráveis,&lt;br /&gt;mas de certeza que tudo será lembrado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114746096605338242?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114746096605338242/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114746096605338242' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114746096605338242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114746096605338242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/momentos.html' title='Momentos'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114701256264186899</id><published>2006-05-07T15:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T15:47:44.236+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Opium</title><content type='html'>Climb a wall,&lt;br /&gt;doesn't matter how high&lt;br /&gt;just climb,&lt;br /&gt;climb that wall&lt;br /&gt;that tear us apart,&lt;br /&gt;I need you to do that,&lt;br /&gt;I need you,&lt;br /&gt;you became my drug&lt;br /&gt;you are my opium.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114701256264186899?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114701256264186899/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114701256264186899' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114701256264186899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114701256264186899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/opium.html' title='Opium'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114701217744210528</id><published>2006-05-07T15:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T15:29:37.453+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Noite</title><content type='html'>A noite,&lt;br /&gt;Corre levemente,&lt;br /&gt;cheia de mistérios e arrepios&lt;br /&gt;na noite te devia procurar,&lt;br /&gt;mas na noite me refúgio,&lt;br /&gt;Axa-se muitos recantos de noite,&lt;br /&gt;talvez até demais,&lt;br /&gt;sente-se uma falsa segurança&lt;br /&gt;com tantos falsos sinais.&lt;br /&gt;Por entre a noite vou andando,&lt;br /&gt;Por entre mar de escuridão&lt;br /&gt;vou fugindo e procurando,&lt;br /&gt;fujo.. no meu rio da solidão.&lt;br /&gt;Até que a noite,&lt;br /&gt;minha confidente,&lt;br /&gt;mesmo ela,&lt;br /&gt;me abandona,&lt;br /&gt;vai descansar, ou então&lt;br /&gt;outros mares e rios vai povoar.&lt;br /&gt;Nasce o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Para eu pela Noite esperar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114701217744210528?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114701217744210528/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114701217744210528' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114701217744210528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114701217744210528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/noite.html' title='Noite'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114668620468056273</id><published>2006-05-03T20:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T23:17:31.346+01:00</updated><title type='text'>She</title><content type='html'>As curvas da sedução,&lt;br /&gt;O aroma do querer,&lt;br /&gt;o cheiro da tentação,&lt;br /&gt;tudo ela me faz querer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divago pelos seus olhos,&lt;br /&gt;Contorno as suas formas,&lt;br /&gt;Seduzindo-me com o seu calor,&lt;br /&gt;Travando-me, apenas com a ideia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-te segura de ti,&lt;br /&gt;Fazendo-me tremer&lt;br /&gt;mas não o mostro, não a ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passa-se o tempo,&lt;br /&gt;Cresce a vontade,&lt;br /&gt;Consuma-se... a Saudade&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114668620468056273?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114668620468056273/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114668620468056273' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114668620468056273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114668620468056273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/05/she.html' title='She'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114631412501761594</id><published>2006-04-29T13:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T13:46:59.503+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Escolha</title><content type='html'>Caminhando,&lt;br /&gt;Descobriu um cruzamento,&lt;br /&gt;dum lado, aquilo que quer,&lt;br /&gt;aquilo que lhe provocará dor,&lt;br /&gt;ou muita alegria,&lt;br /&gt;doutro, apenas a tristeza,&lt;br /&gt;de seguir caminho,&lt;br /&gt;A escolha urge ser feita,&lt;br /&gt;olhou o caminho de frente,&lt;br /&gt;pensou para si,&lt;br /&gt;sentiu-se abraçar esse caminho,&lt;br /&gt;mas,&lt;br /&gt;mas como, antigamente,&lt;br /&gt;como, ja o havia feito,&lt;br /&gt;suspirou e virou,&lt;br /&gt;de olhos baixos&lt;br /&gt;por outro caminho seguirá..&lt;br /&gt;a dor é imensa,&lt;br /&gt;mas não pode ser diferente.&lt;br /&gt;Caminhou...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114631412501761594?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114631412501761594/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114631412501761594' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114631412501761594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114631412501761594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/escolha.html' title='A Escolha'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114618812198037092</id><published>2006-04-28T02:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T02:38:34.283+01:00</updated><title type='text'>feelings</title><content type='html'>Corro em ti com o olhar,&lt;br /&gt;perco-me,&lt;br /&gt;no meio de ti,&lt;br /&gt;por entre formas&lt;br /&gt;macias e suaves,&lt;br /&gt;De mil formas me incendeias,&lt;br /&gt;de mil e uma formas eu me acalmo&lt;br /&gt;Sinto a tua brisa tocar-me,&lt;br /&gt;sinto-o, mas não lhe toco,&lt;br /&gt;não consigo,&lt;br /&gt;Procuro sair,&lt;br /&gt;Procuro não me deixar levar,&lt;br /&gt;Tento, agora e tentarei depois,&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;chama&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;um corpo húmido,&lt;br /&gt;de chamas intensas e geladas,&lt;br /&gt;Um Fogo de sorrisos gritantes,&lt;br /&gt;percorro-te,&lt;br /&gt;deixas-me percorrer-te,&lt;br /&gt;e, eu, não resistindo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;encho-me de ti,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;e devagar me satisfaço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mesmo assim não basta,&lt;br /&gt;gelas-me com o teu olhar quente e penetrante,&lt;br /&gt;fazes com que me possa agarrar a nada,&lt;br /&gt;e caio,&lt;br /&gt;caio em mim, mas nesse momento&lt;br /&gt;Lentamente desperto.&lt;br /&gt;senti-me reviver enquanto me afundava,&lt;br /&gt;Para sempre.. irei sonhar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114618812198037092?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114618812198037092/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114618812198037092' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114618812198037092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114618812198037092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/feelings.html' title='feelings'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114618540819426589</id><published>2006-04-28T01:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T12:50:48.850+01:00</updated><title type='text'>lutas..</title><content type='html'>Em todos os desafios e em todos os confrontos, A vida dá-nos sempre escolha. Duas. Para se ser mais exacto, devemos escolher em cada desafio que a vida nos lança se lutamos ou partimos, qualquer uma delas é a "certa", para o momento na nossa cabeça pelo nosso ponto de vista,será? Será que podemos sempre confiar no nosso ponto de vista ao ponto de ele nos fazer ir para além do nosso desejo, do que queremos, só porque é o melhor a fazer? Será cobardia fugir ou ainda mais lutar por algo que não é nosso? Por vezes fugimos, com a certeza de que devíamos lutar, outra também lutamos com a certeza que devíamos fugir... Nada é certo, mas as nossas lutas são constantes. E alguém, alguém irá perder. Serei sempre eu? Ou tu, ou eles? Importar-me-ei com isso? Dúvidas, trazem mais "lutas"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114618540819426589?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114618540819426589/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114618540819426589' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114618540819426589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114618540819426589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/lutas.html' title='lutas..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114606069311741733</id><published>2006-04-26T15:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T15:11:33.133+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensamento</title><content type='html'>Luta-se sempre mais quando se sente a falta,&lt;br /&gt;mas nem sempre se sente a falta a tempo..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falta sempre coragem para lutar pelas coisas&lt;br /&gt;na altura certa..porquê?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114606069311741733?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114606069311741733/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114606069311741733' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114606069311741733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114606069311741733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/pensamento.html' title='Pensamento'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114596873270437660</id><published>2006-04-25T13:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T13:47:27.220+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Duas faces</title><content type='html'>As duas faces,&lt;br /&gt;uso-as para me proteger,&lt;br /&gt;proteger de perguntas,&lt;br /&gt;proteger de respostas,&lt;br /&gt;proteger de ti, e até de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Protegerei-me tanto,&lt;br /&gt;que poderás vir falar comigo,&lt;br /&gt;e por fora&lt;br /&gt;estarei sempre a sorrir,&lt;br /&gt;atento,&lt;br /&gt;mas não estarei a sorrir&lt;br /&gt;por dentro,&lt;br /&gt;estarei corroído,&lt;br /&gt;com o meu pensamento,&lt;br /&gt;com o meu desejo..&lt;br /&gt;são estas as minhas duas faces,&lt;br /&gt;são as faces da minha vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114596873270437660?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114596873270437660/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114596873270437660' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114596873270437660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114596873270437660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/duas-faces.html' title='Duas faces'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114595426392110144</id><published>2006-04-25T09:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T13:53:18.010+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A.I.C. - Down In a Hole</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Bury Me Softly In This Womb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; I Give This Part Of Me For You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Sand Rains Down And Here I Sit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Holding Rare Flowers &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; In A Tomb.....In Bloom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole And I Don't Know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; If I Can Be Saved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; See My Heart I Decorate It&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;  Like A Grave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; You Don't Understand Who They&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Thought I Was Supposed To Be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Look At Me Now A Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Who Won't Let Himself Be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole, Losin' My Soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole, Losin' Control&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; I'd Like To Fly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; But My Wings Have Been So Denied&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole And They've Put All&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; The Stones In Their Place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; I've Eaten The Sun So My Tongue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Has Been Burned Of The Taste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; I Have Been Guilty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Of Kicking Myself In The Teeth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; I Will Speak No More&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Of My Feelings Beneath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Oh I Want To Be Inside Of You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole, Losin' My Soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole, Feelin' So Small&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole, Losin' My Soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt; Down In A Hole, Out Of Control&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; I'd Like To Fly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; But My Wings Have Been So Denied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;De toda a minha apatia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;encontro algo forte,,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;na minha tristeza,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;encontro a alegria,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;tal como o grunge,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;tal como AIC,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;é um &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pessimismo positivo&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;assim sou eu, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;pela negativa,&lt;br /&gt;pela positiva,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;para não errar mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114595426392110144?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114595426392110144/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114595426392110144' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114595426392110144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114595426392110144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/aic-down-in-hole.html' title='A.I.C. - Down In a Hole'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114592335785279347</id><published>2006-04-25T00:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T01:04:46.850+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhares</title><content type='html'>Olho à minha volta,&lt;br /&gt;perco-me num mar de objectos,&lt;br /&gt;mas em mim nada fica,&lt;br /&gt;nada se destaca,&lt;br /&gt;apenas um vazio,&lt;br /&gt;apenas um grande&lt;br /&gt;Nada.&lt;br /&gt;Tento prestar atenção,&lt;br /&gt;focar um detalhe,&lt;br /&gt;mas,&lt;br /&gt;nem assim,&lt;br /&gt;nem assim consigo&lt;br /&gt;ver mais além,&lt;br /&gt;dum vazio em mim&lt;br /&gt;algo se intrepõe,&lt;br /&gt;entre o que a vista capta&lt;br /&gt;e o que realmente vejo,&lt;br /&gt;ou quero ver..&lt;br /&gt;perco-me facilmente,&lt;br /&gt;neste olhar vazio,&lt;br /&gt;neste olhar cego.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei..&lt;br /&gt;Não sei mesmo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114592335785279347?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114592335785279347/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114592335785279347' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114592335785279347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114592335785279347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/olhares.html' title='Olhares'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114582051886315841</id><published>2006-04-23T20:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T23:40:54.046+01:00</updated><title type='text'>More Than Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Extreme - More Than Words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Saying I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Is not the words I want to hear from you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's not that I want you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not to say, but if you only knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How easy it would be to show me how you feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;More than words is all you have to do to make it real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cos I'd already know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What would you do if my heart was torn in two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;More than words to show you feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That your love for me is real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What would you say if I took those words away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Then you couldn't make things new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just by saying I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;More than words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now I've tried to talk to you and make you understand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All you have to do is close your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And just reach out your hands and touch me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hold me close don't ever let me go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;More than words is all I ever needed you to show&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cos I'd already know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What would you do if my heart was torn in two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;More than words to show you feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That your love for me is real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What would you say if I took those words away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Then you couldn't make things new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just by saying I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;More than words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É sempre preciso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mais que palavras,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mais que intenções,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mais que o querer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;há que o demonstrar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;não uma vez,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nem duas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;O Gostar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;é um querer contante, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;de conquistar alguém,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;todos os dias, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;todas as horas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;todos os minutos, e segundos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;não pode nem deve,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ser uma coisa dum momento só,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;quem diz que conquista alguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;num momento,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;então mente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;porque não conquistou,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;cativou..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;teremos para nós apenas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;quem gostamos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mas não devemos nunca, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;baixar os braços e dizer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;que já temos o que queremos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;quando se gosta,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;há um coração que bate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;com o nosso, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;não faz sentido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;um sozinho,&lt;br /&gt;e só um,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;fazer o trabalho de dois.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mais que palavras,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; mais que intenções,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; mais que o querer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;tá o fazer por...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114582051886315841?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114582051886315841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114582051886315841' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114582051886315841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114582051886315841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/more-than-words.html' title='More Than Words'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114580862978021047</id><published>2006-04-23T17:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T01:09:23.400+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisboa...</title><content type='html'>Caminho,&lt;br /&gt;entre ruas e becos,&lt;br /&gt;da cidade...&lt;br /&gt;tudo nos envolve,&lt;br /&gt;é a alegria de quem lá mora&lt;br /&gt;ou apenas de quem lá passa,&lt;br /&gt;nada nem ninguém&lt;br /&gt;fica indiferente,&lt;br /&gt;A cidade cativa-nos,&lt;br /&gt;desde,&lt;br /&gt;o rio com o seu património,&lt;br /&gt;o frio e o calor..&lt;br /&gt;o barulho e o silêncio,&lt;br /&gt;a pressa e o devagar..&lt;br /&gt;foge-nos o tempo&lt;br /&gt;vagueando pela cidade&lt;br /&gt;com o nosso&lt;br /&gt;destino incerto,&lt;br /&gt;descobrindo um mundo&lt;br /&gt;de alegrias&lt;br /&gt;e tristezas,&lt;br /&gt;Mas uma cidade..&lt;br /&gt;Cheia de Vida.&lt;br /&gt;Cheia de encanto,&lt;br /&gt;Cheia de magia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114580862978021047?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114580862978021047/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114580862978021047' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114580862978021047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114580862978021047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/lisboa.html' title='Lisboa...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114580503774917148</id><published>2006-04-23T16:05:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T16:21:03.550+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cranberries - Linger</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;"Linger"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;If you, if you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;I'm sure I'm not being rude, but it's just your attitude, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;It's tearing me apart, It's ruining everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;I swore, I swore I would be true, and honey, so did you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Oh, I thought the world of you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;I thought nothing could go wrong, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;But I was wrong. I was wrong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;If you, if you could get by, trying not to lie, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Things wouldn't be so confused and I wouldn't feel so used, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;But you always really knew, I just wanna be with you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;And I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;You know I'm such a fool for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Do you have to let it linger?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114580503774917148?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114580503774917148/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114580503774917148' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114580503774917148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114580503774917148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/cranberries-linger_23.html' title='Cranberries - Linger'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114556452802085245</id><published>2006-04-20T21:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T21:28:48.666+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Para o Horizonte...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Um adeus com um suspiro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Uma dor de cabeça,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Um encontrar dum abrigo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;por mais frágil que pareça,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Sente-se algo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Teme-se a revolta,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Desatam-se os laços,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Que tinhamos à nossa volta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Em tudo se pensa,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;nada é esquecido,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Foge-nos a Confiança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Mas nada é perdido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; Um novo dia começa,&lt;br /&gt;Um novo raiar do sol&lt;br /&gt;Um novo fôlego,&lt;br /&gt;Um novo começo,&lt;br /&gt;Como tantos outros anteriores&lt;br /&gt;Mas desta vez,&lt;br /&gt;desta vez,&lt;br /&gt;Nada será ao acaso,&lt;br /&gt;Nada o pode permitir,&lt;br /&gt;Abre-se os olhos,&lt;br /&gt;o Horizonte está mesmo ali&lt;br /&gt;é Altura.&lt;br /&gt;Altura de levantar&lt;br /&gt;e Partir,&lt;br /&gt;Sem medo,&lt;br /&gt;à Descoberta...&lt;br /&gt;à Luta!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114556452802085245?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114556452802085245/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114556452802085245' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114556452802085245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114556452802085245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/para-o-horizonte.html' title='Para o Horizonte...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114546040666100079</id><published>2006-04-19T16:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T16:26:46.676+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>As palavras proferidas&lt;br /&gt;O caminho traçado&lt;br /&gt;O levantar da cabeça&lt;br /&gt;quando os olhos se baixam&lt;br /&gt;Toma-se decisões&lt;br /&gt;Ficam apenas as emoções&lt;br /&gt;tudo o que em nós mora&lt;br /&gt;presta-se atenção&lt;br /&gt;toma-se uma decisão&lt;br /&gt;talvez,&lt;br /&gt;não de animo leve&lt;br /&gt;mas,&lt;br /&gt;é a que se pensa&lt;br /&gt;ser a melhor&lt;br /&gt;segue-se um rumo,&lt;br /&gt;um rumo que nos oriente&lt;br /&gt;sem olhar para traz, &lt;br /&gt;sem suspirar pelo passado,&lt;br /&gt;sem esperar pelo futuro,&lt;br /&gt;encarando o presente&lt;br /&gt;de olhos bem abertos&lt;br /&gt;e cabeça sempre levantada&lt;br /&gt;seguimos,&lt;br /&gt;sem atropelar,&lt;br /&gt;sem ultrapassar,&lt;br /&gt;tentando ser nós, &lt;br /&gt;e só nós próprios,&lt;br /&gt;Seguimos um Destino,&lt;br /&gt;nunca esquecendo&lt;br /&gt;que somos nós &lt;br /&gt;que escolhemos&lt;br /&gt;o caminho &lt;br /&gt;e o fim, &lt;br /&gt;nada nem nínguem&lt;br /&gt;pode decidir por nós,&lt;br /&gt;o nosso próprio Destino,&lt;br /&gt;somos nós que o escolhemos,&lt;br /&gt;lutando ou não &lt;br /&gt;pelo aquilo que mais &lt;br /&gt;Queremos.&lt;br /&gt;Lutarei..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114546040666100079?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114546040666100079/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114546040666100079' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114546040666100079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114546040666100079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114528272472295819</id><published>2006-04-17T15:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T15:08:25.070+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Feiticeira</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  De que noite demorada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ou de que breve manhã&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Vieste tu, feiticeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De nuvens deslumbrada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que sonho feito mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ou de que mar não sonhado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Vieste tu, feiticeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Aninhar-te ao meu lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que fogo renascido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ou de que lume apagado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Vieste tu, feiticeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Segredar-me ao ouvido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que fontes de que águas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que chão de que horizonte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que neves de que fráguas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que sedes de que montes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que norte de que lida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; De que deserto de morte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Vieste tu feiticeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Inundar-me de vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Música: Luis Represas&lt;br /&gt;Letra: Francisco Viana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;"&gt;Um Bom Poema, cantado seja por quem for, é sempre bom de ouvir, e ler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114528272472295819?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114528272472295819/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114528272472295819' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114528272472295819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114528272472295819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/feiticeira.html' title='Feiticeira'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114519893815470079</id><published>2006-04-16T15:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T16:04:48.666+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Existir...</title><content type='html'>Trilhamos o nosso caminho..&lt;br /&gt;caminho esse, onde&lt;br /&gt;precisamos de coragem,&lt;br /&gt;de razão,&lt;br /&gt;de nos conhecermos,&lt;br /&gt;e termos certezas,&lt;br /&gt;do que queremos&lt;br /&gt;do tudo e do nada.&lt;br /&gt;Muitas Escolhas,&lt;br /&gt;Muitas dúvidas,&lt;br /&gt;Falhas no passado,&lt;br /&gt;não significam falhas no futuro,&lt;br /&gt;Mas podemos sempre&lt;br /&gt;sempre,&lt;br /&gt;aprender com o nosso passado,&lt;br /&gt;para no nosso presente&lt;br /&gt;evitarmos erros no futuro.&lt;br /&gt;Seguindo não apenas a nossa&lt;br /&gt;Consciência,&lt;br /&gt;e/ou também o nosso&lt;br /&gt;Coração,&lt;br /&gt;caminharemos&lt;br /&gt;sabendo que podemos falhar,&lt;br /&gt;mas sabendo que senão seguirmos&lt;br /&gt;o nosso desejo,&lt;br /&gt;a nossa vontade,&lt;br /&gt;então não estamos a andar&lt;br /&gt;o nosso caminho, estamos apenas&lt;br /&gt;Encostados na berma,&lt;br /&gt;da estrada da nossa existência..&lt;br /&gt;vendo passar tudo&lt;br /&gt;e não tocando em nada,&lt;br /&gt;Na nossa própria vida,&lt;br /&gt;Precisamos de mostrar que&lt;br /&gt;EXISTIMOS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114519893815470079?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114519893815470079/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114519893815470079' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114519893815470079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114519893815470079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/existir.html' title='Existir...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114509831186509079</id><published>2006-04-15T11:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T11:51:51.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um Tributo..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Um dia a maioria de nós irá separar-se.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Sentiremos saudades de todas as conversas jogadas fora, das descobertas que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;fizemos, dos sonhos que tivemos, dos tantos risos e momentos que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;partilhamos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Saudades até dos momentos de lágrimas, da angústia, das vésperas dos finais &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;de semana, dos finais de ano, enfim... do companheirismo vivido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Sempre pensei que as amizades continuassem para sempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Hoje não tenho mais tanta certeza disso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Em breve cada um vai para seu lado, seja pelo destino ou por algum &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;desentendimento, segue a sua vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Talvez continuemos a nos encontrar, quem sabe...nas cartas que trocaremos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Podemos falar ao telefone e dizer algumas tolices...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Aí, os dias vão passar, meses...anos... até este contacto se tornar cada &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;mais raro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Vamo-nos perder no tempo....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Um dia os nossos filhos verão as nossas fotografias e perguntarão:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;"Quem são aquelas pessoas?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Diremos...que eram nossos amigos e...... isso vai doer tanto! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;-"Foram meus amigos, foi com eles que vivi tantos bons anos da minha vida!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;A saudade vai apertar bem dentro do peito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Vai dar vontade de ligar, ouvir aquelas vozes novamente......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Quando o nosso grupo estiver incompleto... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;reunir-nos-emos para um último adeus de um amigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;E, entre lágrima abraçar-nos-emos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Então faremos promessas de nos encontrar mais vezes daquele dia em diante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Por fim, cada um vai para o seu lado para continuar a viver a sua vida, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;isolada do passado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;E perder-nos-emos no tempo.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Por isso, fica aqui um pedido deste humilde amigo: não deixes que a vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;passe em branco, e que pequenas adversidades sejam a causa de grandes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;tempestades.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Eu poderia suportar, embora não sem dor, que tivessem morrido todos os meus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;amores, mas enlouqueceria se morressem todos os meus amigos!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114509831186509079?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114509831186509079/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114509831186509079' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114509831186509079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114509831186509079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/um-tributo.html' title='Um Tributo..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114493774145726458</id><published>2006-04-13T15:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T15:15:41.473+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream with someone else's dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:6;"&gt;&lt;a name="#6"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="#6"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;How many times I wake up at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; Feeling so scared so I cannot find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; So I cannot find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; The true love of mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; How many times I waited to share&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; This kind of feelings but you were not there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; So I cannot find the true love of mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; How many tears fell down from my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; How many fears grew up in my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; So I cannot find the true love of mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; I wish you could see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; I wish you could feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; I wish you could be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; I wish you could be the true love of mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt; I can't take it anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Even it seems to be overboard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Even it doesn't match the reality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Even every thoughs that can make it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But.. Great Song, Great lyrics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Love it.. one of them best songs for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Gift&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;a name="#6"&gt;Dream with someone else's dream&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114493774145726458?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114493774145726458/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114493774145726458' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114493774145726458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114493774145726458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/dream-with-someone-elses-dream.html' title='Dream with someone else&apos;s dream'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114483878293428251</id><published>2006-04-12T11:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T11:46:22.946+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Trilhos</title><content type='html'>Fazemos da nossa vida um caminho,&lt;br /&gt;mas não o escolhemos,&lt;br /&gt;apenas o trilhamos&lt;br /&gt;Se me dessem a escolher&lt;br /&gt;escolheria sempre um caminho de terra&lt;br /&gt;porque sabe sempre bem&lt;br /&gt;mas sempre&lt;br /&gt;sair dum caminho de terra para um alcatroado&lt;br /&gt;mas o contrario...não&lt;br /&gt;gostaria de dizer que fiz sempre a escolha certa&lt;br /&gt;nos meus cruzamentos,&lt;br /&gt;nas minhas intersecções de decisões&lt;br /&gt;mas não, muitas vezes nem la perto andei&lt;br /&gt;muitas, imensas. Demais.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje pago por decisões amargas,&lt;br /&gt;Decisões...&lt;br /&gt;Chamo-lhe estupidez&lt;br /&gt;Chamo-lhe criancice..&lt;br /&gt;Mas não posso dizer&lt;br /&gt;que seria diferente&lt;br /&gt;que hoje tomaria as decisões correctas&lt;br /&gt;que acertaria desta vez...&lt;br /&gt;Porque há sempre um ou dois caminhos certos.&lt;br /&gt;Sim, So estes.&lt;br /&gt;Mas uma infinidade&lt;br /&gt;De caminhos errados.&lt;br /&gt;Demais.&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo para o curso da vida.&lt;br /&gt;Mas é assim,&lt;br /&gt;que temos que viver.&lt;br /&gt;Vive-se...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114483878293428251?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114483878293428251/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114483878293428251' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114483878293428251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114483878293428251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/trilhos.html' title='Trilhos'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114475797092180213</id><published>2006-04-11T13:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T13:24:05.856+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Suspiros</title><content type='html'>Nem sempre a nossa vontade pode ser dita em voz alta..&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre o que queremos no nosso intimo pode ser assumido cá fora..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se a vida é liberdade de escolhas, se me dizes que acreditas no destino, então porque é que prendes a tua vida ao teu suposto destino? Liberdade? Onde..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114475797092180213?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114475797092180213/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114475797092180213' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114475797092180213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114475797092180213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/suspiros.html' title='Suspiros'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114475497973035807</id><published>2006-04-11T12:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T12:29:39.746+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Esse Dia!</title><content type='html'>Caminhos cruzados, estradas sem fim.&lt;br /&gt;Lentamente sigo neste trilho da vida,&lt;br /&gt;da minha vida.&lt;br /&gt;muita coisa passou,&lt;br /&gt;algumas passaram ao lado,&lt;br /&gt;outras fui eu que fugi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temos nós que tomar as nossas decisões,&lt;br /&gt;por vezes sem tempo para as pensar&lt;br /&gt;correctamente,&lt;br /&gt;ou incorrectamente,&lt;br /&gt;pensar so por si...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;olha-se nos olhos&lt;br /&gt;toma-se a decisão&lt;br /&gt;mas será que se pensa nela?&lt;br /&gt;será?&lt;br /&gt;Ou andaremos uma vida inteira a lamentar&lt;br /&gt;uma má decisão,&lt;br /&gt;Teremos tido um dia&lt;br /&gt;em que diremos pa toda a vida&lt;br /&gt;que foi o nosso dia de seguir um caminho&lt;br /&gt;que não o do coração,&lt;br /&gt;e mais tarde, veremos que nem&lt;br /&gt;seguimos o da razão..&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de chamar a esse dia&lt;br /&gt;o Dia do masoquismo máximo,&lt;br /&gt;porque nesse dia, lutamos,&lt;br /&gt;lutamos contra o que mais queremos,&lt;br /&gt;lutamos para seguir na direcção oposta&lt;br /&gt;à nossa vontade.. Esse dia...&lt;br /&gt;Nunca o esqueceremos,&lt;br /&gt;Nunca.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114475497973035807?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114475497973035807/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114475497973035807' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114475497973035807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114475497973035807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/04/esse-dia.html' title='Esse Dia!'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114260450158187434</id><published>2006-03-17T13:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-17T14:09:46.096Z</updated><title type='text'>Divagações Existenciais</title><content type='html'>As vezes damos por nós a pensar na nossa vida, tudo parece correr bem, tudo está bem..&lt;br /&gt;Temos tudo tão controlado que estranhamos, seguimos o nosso caminho correcto, mas sempre, sempre temos a nossa tendência para nos desviar dele, porquê? Perdemo-nos. De propósito, ou sem querer, o que conta, é que sabemos o nosso caminho, mas muda-mos de rumo, faz parte da nossa mentalidade, procurar, procurar dificuldades, mesmo quando elas não nos querem, mesmo quando nós não as queremos, mesmo que tenhamos que as criar por nós próprios. Verdades. Mentiras. Fases da nossa vida, fases da vida de outros, a vida é como o monópolio, mas onde ja todos têm hoteis e casas por tudo quanto é lado, e a nós so nos resta ir de casa da sorte à casa da comunidade, tentando não parar, onde temos que pagar. Sofrer. É nos perigos deste caminho, entre a sorte madrasta que nos pode mandar para um mau cobrador, ou que nos alivie e nos deixe seguir o caminho. O Nosso caminho, livre de tudo o que é influências externas, mas será assim? Será que podemos mesmo considerar que a nossa vida pode ser livre de influências externas, ou podemos e devemos nós, viver-mos, sem nunca deixar-mos de fora, o mundo? Afinal de contas, temos esta vida... mas também é neste mundo. O nosso mundo. Vivemos aqui, e aqui perecemos, portanto, jogue-se os dados, e venha o que tiver que vir, tudo teremos que enfrentar, mais tarde.. ou mais cedo. Lança-se os dados.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114260450158187434?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114260450158187434/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114260450158187434' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114260450158187434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114260450158187434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/03/divagaes-existenciais.html' title='Divagações Existenciais'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-114023023035741173</id><published>2006-02-18T02:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-18T02:37:10.370Z</updated><title type='text'>Rumos..</title><content type='html'>Perdido, Vagueava,&lt;br /&gt;Acabei num deserto&lt;br /&gt;sem saber onde errava&lt;br /&gt;nem o que fazia certo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murmurios perdi&lt;br /&gt;nos grãos de areia&lt;br /&gt;pensamentos perdi&lt;br /&gt;sem fazer uma ideia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;até que no meio desse deserto&lt;br /&gt;o sol brilhou, iluminando a minha face&lt;br /&gt;pálida, de tanta armagura, de tanto incerto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brilhaste pra mim meu Sol, deste luz ao meu sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Por entre grãos de areia te segui, até ao fim&lt;br /&gt;te seguirei, até onde puder, Até onde for preciso&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-114023023035741173?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/114023023035741173/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=114023023035741173' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114023023035741173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/114023023035741173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/rumos.html' title='Rumos..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113948978399650363</id><published>2006-02-09T12:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-09T12:56:24.003Z</updated><title type='text'>Pensamentos..</title><content type='html'>Passamos a vida à procura dum objectivo, mas muitos não o encontram, e passam pela vida, sem saber bem porquê nem para quê.. Fará sentido, perder-mos tanto tempo em busca de algo que pode tar mesmo em frente aos nossos olhos..Porque é que para encontrar o nosso proprio rumo, temos que obedecer aos tempos de outras pessoas? Seremos assim tão egoístas, que não possamos deixar alguém decidir por si, no tempo que quiser. Obrigamo-nos a crescer, e quase por acaso muitos crescem sem o saber, outros sem o saber.. não crescem, mas pensam que sim. A vida é demasiado séria para não lhe meter-mos calma de vez em quando. Uma vez alguém me disse algo como isto, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A vida leva-se nem muito a sério nem muito a brincar&lt;/span&gt;". A verdade é que nínguem sai vivo dela, por isso, aproveita-se o tempo que cá se anda, faz-se o que se gosta, e pelo meio.. entre isso tudo, Crescemos. Agora digo, estarei eu crescido? e tu? e ele? será possível em algum momento dizermos que já crescemos tudo? que não precisamos de crescer mais.. no dia em que considerares, que eu considerar isso, tão já ca não fazemos falta nenhuma. Porque Viver, é um crescimento constante!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113948978399650363?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113948978399650363/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113948978399650363' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113948978399650363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113948978399650363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/pensamentos.html' title='Pensamentos..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113923861928993603</id><published>2006-02-06T15:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-06T17:31:10.276Z</updated><title type='text'>Dedicado: Untitled</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Saudades?... O que significa afinal?&lt;br /&gt;É dor, é tristeza, é alento,&lt;br /&gt;É chama que queima por dentro&lt;br /&gt;Sem saber o quanto nos faz mal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ataca-nos como um animal&lt;br /&gt;Mais rápido que o próprio vento&lt;br /&gt;Mostrando que o futuro é incerto&lt;br /&gt;E não lógico como a cardeal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É ter fome e sede de carinhos,&lt;br /&gt;É vontade de bem alto gritar&lt;br /&gt;Ao mundo, que uma rosa tem espinhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É ter a água e querer o ar,&lt;br /&gt;É querer o mar e ter caminhos,&lt;br /&gt;É ser alado sem poder voar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Por A.N.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Simplesmente...Adorei este poema!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113923861928993603?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113923861928993603/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113923861928993603' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113923861928993603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113923861928993603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/dedicado-untitled.html' title='Dedicado: Untitled'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113881046421490777</id><published>2006-02-01T16:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-01T16:14:24.233Z</updated><title type='text'>O peso das Palavras</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tanta coisa dita nos faz sorrir, mas em nada nos muda, mas basta uma frase, por mais pequena que seja, mas que contenha aquela palavra,&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;para nos deixar de rastos, sente-se a angustia, perde-se o nosso moral, sente-se enfim, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Será preciso viver tanto, para tão pouco nos dilacerar, nos arrasar.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Num momento, é-se chama, no outro cinza, sem fumo, cinza fria..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;São duras as palavras, são incólumes sempre, porque depende de quem as diz, elas dizem-nos o que nós queremos ouvir, ou ferem-nos com o que não queremos.. são soldados, diplomatas ou amigas.. são o que nós quisermos que elas sejam, nem mais nem menos,&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;as palavras são sempre o inicio de qualquer coisa, duma amizade, duma briga, dum aconchego ou de um puxão de orelhas, perde-se muito tempo, as vezes até demais na mentalidade de alguém, mas se soubermos usar bem as nossas palavras, nunca o tempo é dado como perdido. Evitando dizer coisas que não se deve, evitamos problemas para resolver depois, nem todos são compreensiveis quando ouvem o que não querem, vivemos num mundo hipócrita e egocentrico, em que eu e tu, preferimos o prazer dum elogio, mesmo não sendo de todo verdadeiro, a uma critica que nos faça crescer, perdemos ajudas preciosas, outras nem por isso. Será que tem que ser assim?Não haverá mesmo um modo diferente de vermos as coisas... deve fazer parte da nossa maneira, no nosso desenvolvimento..&lt;br /&gt;As palavras não deviam ser pesadas, mas sempre serão, por isso digo, o peso das palavras.. é algo que uma simples balança pode pesar, uma palavra pode ser leve num momento, mas noutro a mesma palavra é pesada. Porquê? Porque é como nos convem, não se deve cometer o erro de pesar as palavras, mas muito menos de falar por falar, é gastar palavras à toa, ou melhor, fazer com que elas tomem vida, e façam o que querem.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Usem Bem as palavras, porque elas podem ser as nossas maiores amigas, mas também, as piores inimigas.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pesou-se algo&lt;br /&gt;Algo que não se podiar pesar&lt;br /&gt;Vazio por dentro se fez&lt;br /&gt;Um Vacuo se formou&lt;br /&gt;Tenta-se ver as coisas&lt;br /&gt;Para além da vista,&lt;br /&gt;Para além de nós&lt;br /&gt;Nada..&lt;br /&gt;Nada Flui,&lt;br /&gt;Fica-se estagnado em algo&lt;br /&gt;Algo que não sabemos o quê&lt;br /&gt;Perde-se a força&lt;br /&gt;E espera-se&lt;br /&gt;Por algo,&lt;br /&gt;Pela palavra,&lt;br /&gt;No meio duma pequena frase&lt;br /&gt;A palavra que nos dá vida&lt;br /&gt;E nos alimenta o ser&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113881046421490777?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113881046421490777/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113881046421490777' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113881046421490777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113881046421490777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/02/o-peso-das-palavras.html' title='O peso das Palavras'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113876590611327307</id><published>2006-02-01T03:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-01T03:51:46.133Z</updated><title type='text'>Machine Head - Silver</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt;Yes I hold some keys of gold &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; With cigarettes and silver bullets&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Angels cry and devils lie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; The world is our stage&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Look inside and try and find &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; The part of me that's whole&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; I wish I knew&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; But I got threw behind&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Take my hand &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Across this land&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Escape this, all the hell inside&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Create this man &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; To make my stand&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; And break this hardened shell in time&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; I see a mirror to me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; The lines along my face are drawn in&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; I believe reflections bleed&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; The sorrows of our souls&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Let me know the hurt that shows and wish it all away&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Cause now you'll see&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Why the pain and me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Collide&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; I see the walls around me &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Fall around me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; And everything is alright&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; I see the god among me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Fall among me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; And everything beside&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; I see those walls surround you&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Tie and bound you&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; You'll drown cause you're so&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Cold&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Cold&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Cold&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Cold&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Take my hand &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Across this land&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Escape this, all the hell inside&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; Create this man &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; To make my stand&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;a name="5"&gt; And break this hardened shell in time&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113876590611327307?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113876590611327307/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113876590611327307' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113876590611327307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113876590611327307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/machine-head-silver.html' title='Machine Head - Silver'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113864956811092726</id><published>2006-01-30T19:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-05T02:30:00.166Z</updated><title type='text'>Desabafos...sobre...</title><content type='html'>Saio à rua&lt;br /&gt;olho&lt;br /&gt;de frente o que o mundo&lt;br /&gt;me reserva neste dia,&lt;br /&gt;Respiro fundo,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto penso..&lt;br /&gt;o mundo abre-se&lt;br /&gt;a meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;e para mim&lt;br /&gt;com os seus problemas,&lt;br /&gt;através da sua faceta preferida&lt;br /&gt;a hipocrisia,&lt;br /&gt;temos tendência a fazer o melhor&lt;br /&gt;mas o melhor sempre para nós&lt;br /&gt;não interessa, quantos temos que atropelar&lt;br /&gt;não interessa quem temos que armagurar..&lt;br /&gt;interessa-nos..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nós..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a nossa própria pessoa,&lt;br /&gt;o unico ser perfeito À face da terra&lt;br /&gt;para cada pessoa..&lt;br /&gt;o seu ego,&lt;br /&gt;aquele ego que nos cega muitas vezes&lt;br /&gt;aquele ego, que nos permite&lt;br /&gt;dizer que somos os melhores&lt;br /&gt;mesmo quando tamos de rasto..&lt;br /&gt;é o mesmo que nos impede&lt;br /&gt;de pedir ajuda&lt;br /&gt;quando necessitamos&lt;br /&gt;que nos impede de crescer&lt;br /&gt;quando nos encolhem&lt;br /&gt;Esse nosso defeito&lt;br /&gt;Essa nossa faceta&lt;br /&gt;é o nosso dia a dia...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113864956811092726?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113864956811092726/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113864956811092726' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113864956811092726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113864956811092726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/desabafossobre.html' title='Desabafos...sobre...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113850241693358666</id><published>2006-01-29T02:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-29T02:40:16.946Z</updated><title type='text'>Naquele momento...</title><content type='html'>Tantas noites em claro...&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando com um momento&lt;br /&gt;Fazendo para sentir&lt;br /&gt;o que ainda tava para sentir&lt;br /&gt;Vivendo o que ainda&lt;br /&gt;so sonhava ser possivel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi-se o dia,&lt;br /&gt;veio a noite,&lt;br /&gt;e assim se manteve a rotina&lt;br /&gt;do pensamento,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;até Ao momento&lt;br /&gt;em que se sorri&lt;br /&gt;como so um toto&lt;br /&gt;consegue sorrir..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naquele momento..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu Vivi,&lt;br /&gt;Eu Senti,&lt;br /&gt;Eu Sonhei,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parei,&lt;br /&gt;Congelei esse momento,&lt;br /&gt;E guardei,&lt;br /&gt;Porque as coisas mais simples&lt;br /&gt;São sempre as mais genuínas&lt;br /&gt;Enfim... Respirei&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113850241693358666?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113850241693358666/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113850241693358666' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113850241693358666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113850241693358666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/naquele-momento.html' title='Naquele momento...'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113814428627037953</id><published>2006-01-24T23:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-24T23:11:26.290Z</updated><title type='text'>Divagações III</title><content type='html'>O tempo passa por nós a correr,&lt;br /&gt;por nós..&lt;br /&gt;entenda-sa eu e tu,&lt;br /&gt;não sei se será ainda o tempo exacto&lt;br /&gt;nem o momento correcto para o dizer&lt;br /&gt;mas pergunto-me&lt;br /&gt;pergunto-te..&lt;br /&gt;haverá mesmo esse tempo ou esse momento?&lt;br /&gt;sendo&lt;br /&gt;o tempo é a unica coisa que nunca se cansa&lt;br /&gt;mantém sempre o mesmo ritmo&lt;br /&gt;ele é o pior assassino que se pode conhecer&lt;br /&gt;passa..&lt;br /&gt;pode destruir-me,&lt;br /&gt;pode destruir-te..&lt;br /&gt;mas nunca em momento algum se comeverá..&lt;br /&gt;nem nunca olhará para traz&lt;br /&gt;para pedir desculpa..&lt;br /&gt;poderá ele destruir-nos&lt;br /&gt;senão tentarmos?&lt;br /&gt;poderemos eu e tu ser nós,&lt;br /&gt;basta querermos,&lt;br /&gt;basta..nós!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113814428627037953?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113814428627037953/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113814428627037953' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113814428627037953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113814428627037953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/divagaes-iii.html' title='Divagações III'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113794192447460870</id><published>2006-01-22T14:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-22T19:31:07.106Z</updated><title type='text'>Incógnitas da vida I</title><content type='html'>Porquê....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor quando pode haver Ódio?&lt;br /&gt;A paz quando pode haver Guerra?&lt;br /&gt;A calma quando se pode ter Raiva?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;através do ódio damos mais valor ao Amor.&lt;br /&gt;evitando a guerra, valorizamos a Paz!&lt;br /&gt;e controlando a nossa raiva, aprendemos a ter calma!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conhecendo o nosso fim,&lt;br /&gt;podemos sempre aproveitar&lt;br /&gt;o entretanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A verdade é que..&lt;br /&gt;Dizemos que a vida é o que fazemos dela,&lt;br /&gt;Mas esperamos sempre por alguém&lt;br /&gt;que nos faça vivê-la.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113794192447460870?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113794192447460870/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113794192447460870' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113794192447460870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113794192447460870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/incgnitas-da-vida-i.html' title='Incógnitas da vida I'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113778887972161170</id><published>2006-01-20T20:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-26T03:16:26.230Z</updated><title type='text'>Dedicado II</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;To Know that You loved me&lt;br /&gt;Is to know that you’ll Hate me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do keep it?&lt;br /&gt;Why you keep that stupid faith..&lt;br /&gt;Grow up.. don’t you see&lt;br /&gt;I can grow up without You&lt;br /&gt;Try to do the same,&lt;br /&gt;Its Not so difficult at all&lt;br /&gt;Even.. For You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;If you just want something You can never have.&lt;br /&gt;You shouldn't care with a fake reality..&lt;br /&gt;just face it&lt;br /&gt;Because its a war that you’ve already Lost&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;This is not a sweet nightmare&lt;br /&gt;Feel the Lost,&lt;br /&gt;Because.. i won't feel it anymore&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;I...&lt;br /&gt;Just don't care about you&lt;br /&gt;Anymore!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Textos.. desabafos.. as vezes também faz falta.&lt;br /&gt;Desabafos perdidos, lutas vencidas&lt;br /&gt;agora que os gritos estão dados,&lt;br /&gt;a paz regressa&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113778887972161170?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113778887972161170/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113778887972161170' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113778887972161170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113778887972161170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/dedicado-ii.html' title='Dedicado II'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113776603239497199</id><published>2006-01-20T14:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-20T14:07:12.396Z</updated><title type='text'>Porque?</title><content type='html'>Porque é que...&lt;br /&gt;Pensas no Futuro, imaginas o futuro&lt;br /&gt;Se te esqueces de viver o Presente?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113776603239497199?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113776603239497199/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113776603239497199' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113776603239497199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113776603239497199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/porque.html' title='Porque?'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113776560026810371</id><published>2006-01-20T13:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-20T14:00:00.316Z</updated><title type='text'>Floresta</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Entrei naquela Floresta&lt;br /&gt;Com medo de me perder&lt;br /&gt;Mas ainda,&lt;br /&gt;Com mais medo de te encontrar&lt;br /&gt;Andei à deriva entre as árvores&lt;br /&gt;Do pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Nessa floresta que é a mente&lt;br /&gt;A cada vez que tento sair daqui&lt;br /&gt;Que tento encontrar um Rumo&lt;br /&gt;Perco-me&lt;br /&gt;Será tão dificil, sairmos do nosso pensamento?&lt;br /&gt;Será tão dificil, saires tu do meu pensamento?&lt;br /&gt;Sei que estás aqui,&lt;br /&gt;Escondes-te na nevoa densa&lt;br /&gt;Dos confins do pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Para so apareces quando não estou atento&lt;br /&gt;Porquê?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                            &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Voltei...&lt;br /&gt;Entrei nessa Floresta&lt;br /&gt;Perdi o medo de me perder&lt;br /&gt;Tenho agora,&lt;br /&gt;medo de não te encontrar!&lt;br /&gt;Apareces..&lt;br /&gt;Olhas-me a sorrir,&lt;br /&gt;Escondes-te de peito aberto pra mim&lt;br /&gt;Foges-me mesmo estando comigo&lt;br /&gt;Mas a cada momento, a cada instante...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eu, e até tu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;nos apercebemos,&lt;br /&gt;Que se torna mais dificil&lt;br /&gt;Fugir, porque estou preso a ti,&lt;br /&gt;E tu.. a mim.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113776560026810371?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113776560026810371/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113776560026810371' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113776560026810371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113776560026810371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/floresta.html' title='Floresta'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113770504317396391</id><published>2006-01-19T20:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-19T21:10:43.190Z</updated><title type='text'>Ecos..</title><content type='html'>A nós so nos é permitido lutar-mos e tentar viver&lt;br /&gt;aos outros cabe a tarefa de nos ajudar ou dificultar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uma espécie de corolário a "de todo o cansaço" da menina MyLostWords&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113770504317396391?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113770504317396391/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113770504317396391' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113770504317396391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113770504317396391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/ecos.html' title='Ecos..'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113732581972526601</id><published>2006-01-15T11:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-15T11:50:19.726Z</updated><title type='text'>Divagações II</title><content type='html'>Sorris-me com o pensamento,&lt;br /&gt;Memórias vagas que guardo no tempo&lt;br /&gt;Sorris-me&lt;br /&gt;entre murmurios perdidos sem sons&lt;br /&gt;dentro de mim, ardes-me e não paras&lt;br /&gt;não paras de lavrar cada pedaço meu&lt;br /&gt;Consomes-me em silencio,&lt;br /&gt;porque é que não paras?&lt;br /&gt;sem dó, sem fazeres para parar,&lt;br /&gt;queimas-me por dentro&lt;br /&gt;e sopras-me por fora,&lt;br /&gt;respiro o fumo do interior,&lt;br /&gt;fumo esse que tu provocas,&lt;br /&gt;sem sequer te preocupares&lt;br /&gt;que me asfixias a cada olhar,&lt;br /&gt;a cada sorriso, enfim..&lt;br /&gt;A cada segundo que me olhas&lt;br /&gt;sem o saber, sem o perceber&lt;br /&gt;tornei-me em algo que não entendo&lt;br /&gt;Viciei-me em algo.. em Ti..&lt;br /&gt;ressaco&lt;br /&gt;tornaste-te na minha droga,&lt;br /&gt;no meu vicio de consumo constante&lt;br /&gt;sem ti, deliro&lt;br /&gt;contigo... respiro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113732581972526601?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113732581972526601/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113732581972526601' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113732581972526601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113732581972526601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/divagaes-ii.html' title='Divagações II'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20993078.post-113732536107790940</id><published>2006-01-15T11:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-15T11:42:41.086Z</updated><title type='text'>Dedicado</title><content type='html'>Lentamente,&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me Renascer,&lt;br /&gt;Quero e preciso de renascer,&lt;br /&gt;estive preso tempo demais,&lt;br /&gt;na teia que me lançaste,&lt;br /&gt;na teia que me teceste..&lt;br /&gt;sinto-me atrufiado&lt;br /&gt;por agora voltar a andar,&lt;br /&gt;voltar a correr,&lt;br /&gt;em suma voltar&lt;br /&gt;a viver&lt;br /&gt;Quero voltar a ser eu,&lt;br /&gt;quero sorrir&lt;br /&gt;como uma criança sorri&lt;br /&gt;ingenuamente&lt;br /&gt;quero voltar a ser como era&lt;br /&gt;antes de me aprisionares&lt;br /&gt;e me sugares o meu ser..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20993078-113732536107790940?l=lifeechoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/feeds/113732536107790940/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20993078&amp;postID=113732536107790940' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113732536107790940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20993078/posts/default/113732536107790940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeechoes.blogspot.com/2006/01/dedicado.html' title='Dedicado'/><author><name>T.R.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12389548087765937134</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
