Ferryman Charon, please welcome this pour soul, damaged by his own fate! Please, welcome me on your canoe that you infinitely keep it under your feet.

I read on your face, sunburnt by the fate's time, the carelessness, the optimism but also the pessimism. I see on your face how suffering sinks and the abyssal wrinkles ... sisters with the gap between worlds.
And your black eyes rotate themselves on their white and clean irises. I think that white is the only pure piece of goodness that you have left. But, also, I can not believe - because that white is passed by Blood Rivers, tiny ... but huge in the limit of my look.

At the source of this river I also see other people that leak all their blood from the wounds and push their bodies to the limit of the impossible. Then, the souls come out from these bodies and the left skins will be put it to get dried, to become forever empty for the next rapid disintegration, to disappear and to fertilize the soil that they stepped during their life ... for a little bit of self-suffering.

I also see that your time has stolen, second by second, piece by piece from your hearing tactic.
When I see you so rag dressed, I suddenly think of the humble beggar that stays on the street's corner and begs for human behaviour.
This beggar, roughed by the personal thoughts about Time, needs for a maximum discharge or an immediately explosion.

Some people, more forgiving, start raining with sweet tears from the shiny spheres that they keep under the head; so they topple over a part from their kindness in the bag of the beggar - which, day by day, becomes more gracious. Others treat him bad but he, with immunity, rejects their bullets ... without throwing them any look or, just a little, moral support.

But you, ferryman, can not feel the pain of the beggar; or maybe you feel it, but you beg - or maybe this is your destiny - just souls, that you welcome like they disserve to, on this piece of forever world.
You move your body too hard from here to there, because of your old body through an evolution of time that you passed it.

You do not tell anything, you look the same as time looks: so mute but so dreadful, so conqueror of the human mind. Your indifference for the exterior world is so peaceful - the same with the patience the wise man has, a person that thinks, that meditates continuously and which does not feel the time by himself.

You are a slave oppressed by the frightful Hades that stays so arrogant on his throne from the bottom's end.
By the Styx, you walk crazily on your canoe, and sail into unknown. On the Styx's banks there are burned torches forever burning, with trembling images in his black waters!

These torches sudden burned with the birth of plutonian empire, shine your mind and all the corners of this land buried in comprehensive darkness. These torches show you the way to Hades Empire, way that I think that you can not recognize it too well - in spite of your terrifying experience. Ceaselessly moving of flocks that perpetual try is merry by the souls that cry in a particularly funny manner for your feelings ... therefore, if you'll start painting on the walls of the caves you'll win the Nobel prize for mural painting, in a tragically-comedy manner.

I ask you questions for a while, I ask you for different details but you unconsidered me.
What is all about this eternal hush that you lead inside?
What is wrong with you? Would you ever answer my questions?

You've been and you'll remain nailed on the disgrace's pile and you still don't care about what happens around you, about the time pass, about antiquation of space.
I see that your immortality is sadder than the life that I had and I still have - I think that a short and valuable life is much more than an eternal life lived in the same old Space and Time.

I know!!! Your own satisfaction is to see the souls kneeling in front of your poor look; and expect for the burdens that they will carry on shoulders for a few millenniums. But for the souls, which will be in a different dimension in space and time, this time will pass rapidly instead of us (the living beings).
Many of these souls will come to your canoe, but the rest of them will pass listless beside you, and will adapt quietly their future in the material world of the human livings. Then, few of them will be wise and others will start the initiating road for wisdom.

So, I let you in your silenced world and I will leave melancholically; because I have wished to make a short sail-walk with your boat, but I've changed my mind because this place is quite sinister. In conclusion, I do not want to keep you from your passive time.
Oh! I was forgetting that I must give you a coin for the short trip with the canoe, but I don't have any coin - so, do not get angered because others with much money will come, and you'll not miss me!!!

Goodbye my dear sad friend. I hope that you'll ever get free from the chains of your gifted curse.
The same was my destiny, but not a repeating one like yours.

You can not do anything else ... this is fate!!!

With the lost eyes, he searches for light, looks for the past and eases himself in quivers!