Silence broken In the narrow corridors of time There's a woman with injured feet, Shutting up the scream that didn't fit in the chest and hiding the pain between the tissues. She learned from an early age to fear the dark, Not because of the night, but because of who hides in it. His body is a field of war, where violence settles as owner, where guilt dances on her shoulders as if she was the one who provoked abandonment. They say love is patience, But what she lives is sentence. They say a woman is a flower, but they treat her like a herb that's torn away with a grudge. Know therefore that there are blows that do not leave the face purple, There are words that bleed in silence, There are looks that weigh like bars And there are touches that burn like fire. She speaks to the soul of centuries, with the echo of those who came before and with the faith of those who will come after. She's not alone. Every tear is a river that joins others, forming a sea that will drown fear. Light the candle of change, Listen to your poem Let your fight be seen, And if the absolute truth rises, For being a woman is to be root, trunk, and sprout. It's being a whole world on the move. and against violence of the kind that there is law, voice, action, but also poetry that plays, heals and transforms the heart. Janeth Arthur in his authorship. #Amor #Casamento