In the middle of the road of life
I was in the middle of a dark jungle
after giving my lost path

Dante

To lose. Be lost. Sink into the black pit of hell and not glimpse exit. Breathe to breathe, at least, once more; always with the fear of not being able to do it again.

The agony of hypoxia alerts all the senses in search of solutions. You unfold, at the same time, in Orpheus and Eurydice. Everything leads you to traverse the infinite circles of Hell to rescue the beloved. You wonder if, in an effort to survive, exhausted instincts will guide you. Or, on the contrary, you need a Virgil to guide you, circle after circle, until you reach destiny.

Will the rescue be hard? It matters little. It only moves you to try. Now, at this point, will it be possible to return?

Once you get out, you will have to resist and not turn back to see if life is still behind you. Or on the contrary, you will see it disappear before your eyes.

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