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About Literature / Hobbyist Emerson Luiz Da Silva NascimentoMale/Brazil Recent Activity
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Literature
Reflections (On time and silence)
Sometimes I wonder if time ever goes by
If it really passes and leaves its seeds or if it stays in some kind of momentum within our souls
For we look other people in their eyes and eternity stands still
Hours and minutes sing a devotional song for a much greater thing
Something I can try to feel but I certainly fail when it comes to describing it or its properties
It's somehow that powerful feeling of integrity we all have when the world doesn't seem so far away
When we breath deep and walk with no rush
Or when we close our eyes and understand the silence within
All I know is that Life has its horror and its beauty
The sage follows its rythim, the fool sings its song
And I?
I close my eyes
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Literature
Wandering winds
The shadows of lost men reflect on our everyday decisions
Mistakes driven by others usually make we see what we most want to deny
That we are the angels and demons of our own existence and the paths we cross
We cross alone; the loliness speaks: "Flow, young wind, try to be the greatest and fail"
Its shadow takes our hearts in instants of sorrow, but something stays
That weird, troublesome felling of seeking; seeking for something we do not know
We travel the path to ourselves and we never turn back
After eras of wandering and searching, we see loneliness once more
It's an old man, behind a fire; "I've failed", we say
"Of course you've failed, how could you succeed?", he stares at the fire and grabs his coat
"Has anyone ever done it?"; he walks fast but suddenly slows down
"Has the moon ever touched the sun?"; a sky full of stars above and a heart full of questions below
"It doesn't need to, there's nowhere to get. When did men start to think they should get somewhere but to who they re
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Tempos Escuros by eluiz1233 Tempos Escuros :iconeluiz1233:eluiz1233 0 0 Os caminhos de Brumnik by eluiz1233 Os caminhos de Brumnik :iconeluiz1233:eluiz1233 0 0
Literature
Contos de Arcanum: O Inicio (Vendetta I)
Nome: General Jyll 
Objetivos Conhecidos: Destruir a qualquer custo os Impérios de Faerun
Raça: Meio-Orc
Servos Conhecidos: Geppo, Shardmind Xamã; Tarssy, Genasi Mago 
Localização: Centro de Cold Wood
Posição Hierárquica: Chefe do Grupo dos Revolucionários
Domínio(s) Atuais: The Silver Marches; Icewind Dale     
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    Os arqueiros se posicionavam com cuidado. Embrenhados entre as árvores, nem mesmo o mais perceptivo dos animais poderia localizá-los ali. "Pisem como o vento, caminhem como a Luz, mas ajam como a Sombra". O ensinamento do velho Orc ainda ressoava nos ouvidos de Bûr. A memória de sua morte
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Literature
Contos do Arcanum : O Inicio (Tirania Divina I)
Nome: Lorde Vyr 
Objetivos Conhecidos: Subjugar Faerun através da Religião
Raça: Aggelus (Arton)
Servos Conhecidos: Zendak, Halfling Escudeiro
Localização: Templo das Nove Estrelas - Costa do Dragão
Posição Hierárquica: Chefe do Grupo dos Religiosos
Domínio(s) Atuais: Cormyr; Sembia; Turmish; Amn 
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    – Podemos fazê-lo? – A voz parecia vinda de um abismo frio e escuro, embora se encontrasse a poucos metros do Halfling trêmulo que se curvava perante o trono de pedras cinzentas, sujas e envoltas em um serpenteado de sombras que pareciam proteger o ente magicamente. Estava escuro, e o ser à sua frente era pouco mais que uma
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Literature
Contos do Arcanum: O Inicio (Conhec. Invasivo I)
Nome: Para'Alh
Objetivos Conhecidos: Estudar a nova dinâmica dos mundos e testar suas possibilidades 
Raça: Desconhecida, se apresenta como um Eladrin transfigurado
Servos Conhecidos: Neklhar, Elfo Patrulheiro e seu grupo 
Localização: Ruínas de Val-Murthag
Posição Hierárquica: Chefe do Grupo dos Estudiosos
Domínio(s) Atuais: Narfell; Thay; Impiltur; Aglarond; Damara; Vaana
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    Hyrhon observou atentamente a fenda em sua frente. Os riscos de luz de tom azul amarelado se faziam intensos e presentes. Seria algo comum caso sua identificação magica não falhasse constantemente, não importando o quanto se esforçava.
    - O que? Como iss
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Sometimes I wonder if time ever goes by
If it really passes and leaves its seeds or if it stays in some kind of momentum within our souls
For we look other people in their eyes and eternity stands still
Hours and minutes sing a devotional song for a much greater thing
Something I can try to feel but I certainly fail when it comes to describing it or its properties
It's somehow that powerful feeling of integrity we all have when the world doesn't seem so far away
When we breath deep and walk with no rush
Or when we close our eyes and understand the silence within
All I know is that Life has its horror and its beauty
The sage follows its rythim, the fool sings its song
And I?
I close my eyes
The shadows of lost men reflect on our everyday decisions
Mistakes driven by others usually make we see what we most want to deny
That we are the angels and demons of our own existence and the paths we cross
We cross alone; the loliness speaks: "Flow, young wind, try to be the greatest and fail"
Its shadow takes our hearts in instants of sorrow, but something stays
That weird, troublesome felling of seeking; seeking for something we do not know
We travel the path to ourselves and we never turn back
After eras of wandering and searching, we see loneliness once more
It's an old man, behind a fire; "I've failed", we say
"Of course you've failed, how could you succeed?", he stares at the fire and grabs his coat
"Has anyone ever done it?"; he walks fast but suddenly slows down
"Has the moon ever touched the sun?"; a sky full of stars above and a heart full of questions below
"It doesn't need to, there's nowhere to get. When did men start to think they should get somewhere but to who they really are?"
He leaves, his footprints draw an uncertain thing, we try to see it, understand it
In the end, it only reflects our own image: wandering winds, looking for something, maybe ourselves
I hope we find it
Inicio de um projeto! Espero que tudo flua conforme a Natureza permitir! Boa noite :) .
Os caminhos de Brumnik
"Dizem que em seu topo o céu queima como labareda e é como se pudéssemos beijar o sol", disse, demoradamente, o bêbado que tentava catar algumas moedas em seu bolso enquanto o pesaroso Anão resmungava sua glória e sua sina: "Giant's Belt".


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Emerson Luiz Da Silva Nascimento
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Brazil
Trying to figure that out too!

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