And you arrived…
with your judgments and squeamishness,
with your opinions and wisdom…
haughty, to measure my wounds…

And you showed up like this…
with the hidden pen,
and the stung soul…
to tell me,
how will your spines harm me​​…

And so you approached me,
with your bitter and indolent offering,
empty of praise, but full of falls,
plenty of vague and hollow lies…

But you didn’t remember
that there was part of the past,
where our paths crossed,
and that sooner rather than later,
immediate,
our fates will appear…

Never judge,
and who adjudges your way,
lend them your shoes…
your stones and your thirst of pilgrim…
in order to understand that nobody
has the right to decide your destiny…