Delirios de un moribundo

Relata los últimos pensamientos y las últimas experiencias vividas, de un hombre demasiado consciente de sus malas decisiones, y los errores fácilmente evitables, cometidos a lo largo de su vida.

✍🏼🌛Escrito y voz de Nayma Luna
([e-mail])
🎵✨ Música original de Raúl Guerra

Episode Transcript

(00:02):
Delusions of a dying man walked hiddenunder the command of the night with erratic
steps that made him mess with thestones of the road almost invisible to his
eyes. After the darkness of theplace, the earth concealed the trail of

(00:23):
blood that was leaving behind, comingfrom the cut that crossed his chest,
but it did not prevent him fromslipping at all times, dragging his feet
with little force to lift them,forcing him to stagger to maintain the balance
and not to plummet on the coldand hard ground. His eyes slipped from
his feet to the landscape surrounding hisbrain, demanding him to focus his gaze

(00:51):
on something other than that sticky,bloody red liquid that was ripping his life
out of the cruel flood that escapedfrom his body. Hot blood, flowing
over a icy body, would notbe able to reach the village where they
could possibly help him before dying ofbleeding, although surely no one would offer

(01:15):
to try. I even knew it, but what else could I do,
but keep walking. His gaze wasclouded more and more by sweat, tears
and sorrow that he felt for himselfor perhaps contempt, while his hands tried
uselessly to stop the blood that seemedto want to escape from him by the

(01:38):
acts that had led him to thatsituation, at that moment that fate decided
for him by taking away any otherexit, any other end, every few
stretches, the high poplars, madehim dance his branches, exhorting him to
go forward, giving him encouragement withthe incessant whisper of his leaves, fluttering

(02:00):
under the furious caresses of the wind. Who unusually and in no way contrasted,
sang in his path with that sharpand terrified spectral voice. You'
re not gonna make it? You' re not gonna make it? Leave
yourself, Die, leave yourself,take away, Shaked your head by losing

(02:23):
balance and recovering it at the lastmoment trying to remove those poisonous voices from
sib But instead, it only managedto cloud your mind even more, making
you see shadows that were not reallythere, stalking each of your vulture steps
waiting for your prey to stop givingweak kicks to avoid being food. A

(02:47):
slow strange figure being of pale joke, began to cross his path wanting to
avoid his strange advance. Yes,although recognisable in turn, that woman,
that damn woman who had killed himif she had just confined herself to pretending,

(03:07):
who kept sleeping instead of attacking himwith the woodman' s axe,
never intended to hurt him, stamphis head against the chimney and end his
life. But the fury caused bythe axe' s pain blinded him to
the reason he kept begging him,not to attack him, to take the

(03:27):
bag with the pieces of gold andsilver he had gone for and to escape
without further ado. However, hiswillpower had ceased to exist and at that
time he only craved blood and bloodhad hers and his own. The ghost

(03:50):
of the murdered woman continued to crossher path and he could only give useless
monostripes without force, trying to chaseher away, wanting in vain, to
get rid of the memory, scaringinvisible butterflies that blinded him to reality.
His slowest, more dragged feet continuedto blink after blinking, until, without

(04:15):
even warning of the rapid proximity ofthe ground to his face, as if
the world itself were falling on himand not. On the contrary, he
fell upon the cold earth, raisingclouds of dust, as well as small
sand tsunamis that completely enveloped the bowelsof the world, claiming his life for

(04:36):
which he had cruelly snatched away,had he been more careful, had he
been more stealthy. Maybe no onewould have had to die and would already
be home with the spoils acquired shea little poorer, he much richer.
But both alive. Not having avoidedthat path, having sought for more than

(05:00):
a second, an alternative to thatcursed existence that I always hate, but
that never tried to escape out offear of the hardships and hardness of honest
life, he saw his memories andthoughts fade away as if they escaped the
clutches of the same hell and althoughhardly he managed to trap one of them,

(05:20):
the last of those cloth that oneday was his life and already at
the gates of emptiness he managed todecipher it himself had sought it for him.
After all, he was dead andthere was nothing he could do to
change it and it was too latefor him to care even what else came

(05:42):
to an end. It takes awayboth good and bad memories, and it
also takes away the strange delusions ofa dying man