My Soul To Take

I don't want your gift I rip out my face I tear out my skin I refuse your grace See it fade Like paper in the rain Please give me space Do not come back again I told you before The roots of blood and kin This debt cost me far more Than I want to admit It runs deep and it runs red I shouted for you to leave And you never left As above so below Three times I paid This currency made of cold By the Seas of Rage Be silent Leave me alone Be quiet Until I'm gone Don't raise your hand You won't find me there I told you time was like sand And I'll see you at the end There is nothing left to do And nothing left for you I striped myself naked See what you created! It doesn't matter now I don't want your smile Be quiet somehow Let me rest for a while Miguel Vieira ‘26

#poetry #writing #dark

How much for the Soul of men? Thirty silver of gold Please If you can… A fair price to pay To hell with it Come what may A tree and a rope For my last address Love and hope Will do the rest Forgive me, Lord, I may have sinned Life means so little here Thrown to the wind I can't recall Your name I miss the wind And my brothers Down the hill Everything is so quite now Dead and still Thirty silver coins And someone will balance On me And I am the tree And I am hope I am the last address Man did the rest The night is long now Death is easy here Lord forget this silent vow And wipe our fear Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark

I remember a moment in my life… I was about seven, or eight years old and I never had a McDonald's cheeseburger before. I remember my stepfather brought, late at night, a few, for us to try, but since it was quite late I ended up not eating and leaving it for the next day. When I woke up, naturally I wanted to try, but it was gone. There was no explanation. No “I'm sorry, I was hungry”. I simply had to assume that it was what it was. I remember I didn't cry. I couldn't miss something I never had, but the act of eating what was meant for me hurt me deeply. I didn't have my first cheeseburger until I was around fifteen years old. And even then, I remember not enjoying it that much. Amazing how such a frivolous moment, almost a speck in the memory of an adult, is amplified ten fold in the memory of a child. It taught me an important lesson: why would someone steal what was already given to him/her? Miguel Vieira ‘25

#thoughts #writing

With a fear of sounding sanctimonious or even “end of the world nutjob”, I have seen many discourses around AI and how it will replace humans in certain jobs, leading to our downfall. I have a far different opinion based on what I truly see and hear around the world and that is that, once this older generation dies, we will be on a steady decline to an end. Let me explain: jobs that are hard, like nurses, cleaners, farmers, maintenance, carers, and so on, (the ones that really make the world move), are in trouble not due to AI, but because newer generations don't want them. And how could they? Since the dawn of time these jobs were treated as lower than anything else, badly paid, disrespected and discarded as end of the pit garbage. We did that. All of us. Not AI. Not a magical wand that waved and made these honest, back breaking jobs a staple of poor income and respect. To be afraid of AI is to refuse to see the real problem, and that is, humanity always treated humanity as disposable. You can get angry and you might not agree and that is okay, it still won't change the fact that less and less world building jobs are not being considered as viable. Miguel Vieira ‘25

#writing #thoughts

A thousand names And the answer is The same Over and over again… Billions of prayers Given for free Born of out of despair Behold Brother of sleep Here comes death! A promise Sold and expensively bought Heaven is foretold Only for soul And rot Are the walls we cannot see The ones who bleed? Forgotten We swim while we burn To ask for nothing And receive nothing in return Be a saint Be a devil It is all the same A thousand prayers And none to his name Back and forth We come and go To have read a million words And understand nothing at all Cry out in fear For it might answer What we don't want to hear Like metal in the rain Rot we shall In everlasting shame Here is the bless Given to us all To nothingness we Rise and crawl Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark #thoughts

Far from here There is a road. I can't hear it from here That road… Built on tears and suffering And bone… Meant to be forgotten… What man can do when Their souls are free and alone… A road to freedom and god At the cost Of body and limb, gold And hate unforseen… Here it ran amok Sin sin and more sin… Blood and tears And despair… What we can do to each other When we don't want to share… Wailing and crying That never reached the sky… No answer from above… No reason why… It stretches into Heaven All the the way to Hell and here How can anyone tell In this trail of tears? Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark

A bite carved into memory Made the all of my soul A brief moment of agony Turned me into cold stone An embrace I would lose Throughout the years In an ocean of bitterness And so many fallen tears The candle as flickered away The bell rings no more And now forever to stay Demons have a place to call home The night is long As life can be There is no quiet no peace No light among These phantoms I see Sometimes I feel a loneliness Ready to break me all A dark river of nothingness Just waiting for me to slip and fall Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark

The folly of you youth To have every certainty Sent in stone… To learn the real truth Late and gone… My eyes turned rivers With so much I thought I knew… A prideful moment I wish I could erase… To think that under the Sun There is nothing new And that every day will be the same… I hate you, believe me, With every fiber in my soul… For everything you could have known And everything you chose not to be…. I hate you, more than I can say… For all the moments you left When you could have chosen to stay… It's a weird thing, you see… I cannot stand The fact you were me! Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark

The folly of you youth To have every certainty Sent in stone… To learn the real truth Late and gone… My eyes turned rivers With so much I thought I knew… A prideful moment I wish I could erase… To think that under the Sun There is nothing new And that every day will be the same… I hate you, believe me, With every fiber in my soul… For everything you could have known And everything you chose not to be…. I hate you, more than I can say… For all the moments you left When you could have chosen to stay… It's a weird thing, you see… I cannot stand The fact you were me! Miguel Vieira ‘25

Was not an overreaction. Was called an opinion. Something most commenters only have, regarding other people's opinions.

First game, and had to ve a shooter...Either Bad Robot had no control over the genre or they didn't really care. A company famous for brilliant concepts, like Lost and Fringe, certainly could have choose a better genre to make their first game.

There was a letter there…in that room empty of memories. The letter was old, but you wouldn't be able to say, so cared for it that it was. He couldn't build the courage to throw it away…So much was thrown away already. The letter was accompanied by the slow beating of his heart…and tears. Always tears, no matter how many times he has read it. In all fairness he didn't even have to read it anymore. He knew it by memory. There was a date in it. The happiest day of his life is now only a swift reminder that those vows only last as long as love does. And love, it lasts only a few seconds, compared to those tears and his sobbing, echoing through the room. “I love you forever. Yours, today and always.” Mary was gone. Life took her as swiftly as it gave her. She wasn't dead. Alas, not that kind of pain, but, in all aspects, for him, this was far worse. For all its shortcomings, death brings the peace of finality. But in this case, he would still have to see her, to speak with her, although not with her. They shared a life and from that another life. There was a letter in his room that was as empty as he was. A letter that cuts, brakes and it causes pain on an unknown level, but still, he cannot stop staring at it. As if by doing so he could bend time to his will and force it to return. But, happiness is like a river. It flows. You can drink deeply from it, until, one day, it inevitably dries. Miguel Vieira ‘25

#writing #thoughts

In a world that will swallow you whole And acts like everything is as it should… I've prayed, believe it or not, In many tongues and In languages, that are now dust and rot… There was a deafening silence In that old building, besides the slow beating of a heart crying… Whispers and whimpers of a soul crushed and dying under the weight of a cosmic joke and if true, the most unfair of businesses, it seems; How will I be judged by something who does not understand what being human truly means? I cannot fathom and won't accept it with a quiet resignation, (we've been quiet for long)....Shouldn't we at least be able to raise our voices in death? What else do we have to fear? What pain can be set upon us that wasn't already destined at the moment of our birth? No…I refuse…I refuse every word, every pointing finger and every word of judgment, from whoever it may be… I refuse…I refuse until you walk these shoes of ME! Miguel Vieira ‘25

#writing #thoughts

I feel broken At the seams… Moving…dancing… A puppet Without strings… I let my hands touch Each other… Whispering One word or another… Silence… No choir…no bell… There is nothing there No god no devil no heaven or hell Year after year And so long ago To silence each cry and each tear How you must hate us so With a deep scorn We forgotten you before You were born My mouth runs dry Next to this well And it's full of a life More than i can tell I grew hungry As the table is full of wonders Wasted and undeserved This wine that went sour Before me Was bitter before served I went mad I know it to be true While I searched every corner And saw no sign of you… Lately I've seen My words were spent In hollow buildings Where you never been Never went Through the night and Life's eternal debt I have no Latin No words left Miguel Vieira '25

#poetry #dark #writing #thoughts

On my throat there is a knot It makes me hold on When I should not We are all but castles Built by hand… An hourglass that ran out of sand… Made out of promises broken And words that will forever remain unspoken.. We walk when we should run And we keep going When we should turn It is not but our fate To be deaf to love And listen to hate In each soul A truth hides in the dark That neither hate or love Is meant to last Cry rivers or shout a storm As it It won't matter What was once warm will turn cold And hearts are meant be broken And shatter Diaries open and closed Secrets abound None of them matter for long Only while we are around What does it mean for a dead man Nothing lasts forever Love while you can Love while you can don't make it never Be it a second Be it forever At the crossroad We all go on our way… A moment is all we share… And even if we wanted to stay… We all have our crosses to bear… Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark #writing

Reminds me so much
Favole by Victoria Frances. If you do a book with poetry and this kind of illustration let me know please.

Love the way you picture your poetry. It's actually amazing to see.

I saw a god walking down An empty street As they all are the same I can't unsee How it seemed so full of pain I saw a god Walking in sorrow Head down Removed from tomorrow “I've been here for So long Waiting and waiting Walking a path empty and alone Fading and fading I cannot recall why I came…” So long Without a voice and a name… I saw a man Broken and dying Trying to be the best he can In a world broken and dying I cannot unsee I would be lying How much of his heart Was broken and crying I saw a child Starving on a full street The light dancing On a Christmas tree I saw a child Begging for something to eat I cannot unsee What the night as shown A god a man and a child Dying Broken and alone I pray so I become stone Or unbegotten But I recall Not even a god is far from being forgotten… Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark #writing

Today of all days I feel a sadness… (As if this day were any different…) I can’t blame it on the years… (They pass as they should…) I can’t blame it on the cold… (It is only what it would be…) I am loved - and I love in return With all earth and soul… (As if we could love in any other way…) There is a Sun… and there is light… (Though neither is always the reason for my smile…) I feel no darkness… no pain… No longing… no sorrow… Just a sadness on this day That is no different from any other day… Miguel Vieira ‘25

#prose #dark #sadness

My poetry book Nigredo: Letters in the Tide is finally published. It’s a journey through sorrow, memory, and the shadows we all walk through. If you’ve ever felt alone in the dark - I hope these words keep you company. https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0G1GLQTWC/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&dib_tag=se&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.Acf5PCtY2SsmYf366WTcJQ.m1AvAoI5A-l3PHov-QfEjyhOPNFa2ZxmDUdHTI3tfUI&qid=1762588633&sr=8-1

My poetry book Nigredo: Letters in the Tide is finally published.
It’s a journey through sorrow, memory, and the shadows we all walk through.
If you’ve ever felt alone in the dark - I hope these words keep you company.

www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0G1GLQTW...

#poetry #book #Dark #amazon

minha esperança tem os pés bem assentes na terra. Se não tiver, passa de esperança para loucura. E com pés assentes na terra, essa esperança não tem lugar, porque a verdade é que esta nada tem feito pelo ser humano, que muito espera, sem nada fazer. E é com essa mesma consciência que recuso qualquer tipo de dogmas ou religião. A esperança que podiam dar, realmente de nada me serve. De que me adianta esperar ou desejar que o mundo seja melhor. O meu querer e o meu desejar não são mais profundos do que os bolsos de quem me tira o meu querer e o meu desejar. Sendo assim, eu recuso-me a acreditar. Recuso-me querer e desejar por uma mão invisível ou messias que me salve. Não há nisto qualquer tipo de tristeza ou amargura. Não pode haver. Não há falta ou sequer um desejo que fosse diferente, porque ao desejar que o fosse, eu passaria a ter esperança, e essa…essa não a quero. Miguel Vieira ‘25

#escrita #português #pensamentos

My hope has its feet firmly planted on the ground. If it doesn’t, it ceases to be hope and becomes madness. And with its feet on the ground, that hope has no place, because the truth is that it has done nothing for humankind, which waits endlessly, yet acts so little. It is with this same awareness that I reject all forms of dogma or religion. The hope they might offer is of no use to me. What good is it to wait or wish for the world to be better? My will, my desire, are no deeper than the pockets of those who take away my will and my desire. Therefore, I refuse to believe. I refuse to hope for or desire deliverance from an invisible hand, a messiah. There is nothing sad or bitter in this. There can be nothing. There is no lack, no longing for anything different—because to long for it would be to hope, and that… that I do not want. Miguel Vieira ‘25

#writing #thoughts

Seems obscene to me Let me tell you without pretentious flair, that a child can know deeply, this thing called despair… Some will never have a name… (death will claim them younger and younger)... Some will never feel the flame of a belly full and without hunger… A cruel reminder that we failed… Don't feel blamed, It was not only today… We've been falling for so long We can no longer feel the wind in our face… Oh, but this hands, they destroy and build with equal grace… Don't feel ashamed.. Here, choose a god to pray to… Let it all be forgiven… Tomorrow we start anew… New clouds…new hungers and old death… Here, let me repeat, because apparently we are born deaf… Maybe there was never a bottom to this pit… Wouldn't that be divine? A lovely stop to all of it… Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #writing #dark

Who's future, Mr Barack? Of the those who care about no-ones future but themselves? The future have looked brighter for hundreds of years, but apparently that light doesn't reach everyone... Must be a true blessing to see the world through eyes that cannot perceive the shadows.

Today I opened a suitcase filled with memories. And it flowed through my eyes, (old enemies), Forgotten stories, Without answers and without whys. A life gone by, And the word that stayed with me. As I wandered, somewhat afraid, I found something deep within... A secret... So long kept hidden. Perhaps the only thing I forgot… What you told me When I needed you the most. When darkness engulfed my soul, (I was so lost…) Life slipped through my wrists like a river… What you told me… While you laughed so hard I couldn't believe it… The North cold Reached my gaze… And while while I lost hope, You came along And said to my face: "Not even for that, could you be strong. Weren't you just a waste of space…” Miguel Vieira

#poetry #dark

My gaze falls upon the temptation to scrutinize everything... I smile. Despite the gray day, my soul rejoices, for some secret I do not know. Some certainty that feels strange to me. I rejoice. Strange is my nature, as in resting, I feel complete, only in the rush to live. Moments. Into my mouth comes smell and tastes from other times. Of wet earth and rain that used to be fun. Those weekend mornings when it felt good to linger in bed, protected by the sheets, as if it were a world of its own. So many tastes and scents come to my mouth, and I remember. One in particular, kept in a box of pure gold. In these moments, I have certainties. The rush to live and walk calms down. Sitting on the train, I embrace the daily routine that I had missed, and my eyes meet yours. I know you can’t hear me, you never will. I know you don't know me, and you never will, but in this moment, for a brief twenty minutes, I love you. Not a love of mad, burning passion, but I love you for the stranger that you are, and for the worlds you carry within. I love you because at that precise moment, when my eyes met yours, you entered my world, and I entered yours, and amidst infinite possibilities, of tastes and scents, I know you are made. And my story is yours, and vice versa. And that’s why, I love you, and without knowing your name, I thank you for BEING and FOR BEING THERE. And the train continues on its path, because that's how life is. Miguel Vieira

#poetry #writing

Pain is only pain Because it remembers warmth… A kiss…a word…an embrace… I can only feel sorrow for what is truly missed… And the missed feeling none the less… As if telling us the true cost of life, Death, eternal, doesn't cry, it smiles… Not out of hate. Not out of spite, But as if saying in a gentle voice: “Enjoy…Feel… Be not afraid… I am the Beginning… but also the End…” And despite the sorrow… The pain… What more could we ask of it, If not a second chance, to do it all again? And smiling, A new mystery arises from its mouth; If you were allowed to turn back, How would you enjoy What you'll forever be without? Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark

Sorrow and pain envelope my field of view… The sound of rain Are all that's left After you… And I shudder to think How much I could have said When brick by brick You built the road to death… My soul Once so full of youthful pride, Hasn't said a word And like a coward prefers to hide… Like the moon It can not longer face the Suns strength … And that; “I'll see you soon,” Will forever remain at arms length… When you left You have taken so much of me… And life is always in debt With how eternal can a departure be… Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark

“Avert your eyes”, they say… Be truthful in your heart And pray… “Pay no attention to the noise outside.” And while my head lays low I feel no angel by my side… Maybe…just maybe if I can bow it lower, As they tell… Lower and lower, and also I sense no Hell… Silent as above so it is below… And what I was told was freedoms white dove Quickly turned into death's crow… “Avert your eyes”, they say… “Close your mind and He will come as He may.” In the darkness I relentlessly picked into the void… And what I saw Was nothing but A God…dead…forgotten…destroyed! Miguel Vieira ‘25

#poetry #dark

Crawling, my hands fall into my knees Oh, I've tried so hard not to see Is it true? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? I run to you But each step becomes heavier and longer Is this how I must go To find the one I'll call my own? Is this how it must go, Lost in shadows I saw my soul Wandering through the night A moth to the flame Blinded by the light Dies in shame I've been shouting at you for so long Among the emptiness I call home I've been crying for you for so long Among the emptiness I call home I walk an endless route I speak, but every word is mute Is it true? Are my tears not enough for you? I've been so long among the dead All I can hear is screams in my head Miguel Vieira …

#poetry #dark