is not sadness of loss and is not angry, maybe just look like a strange nostalgia.
An intimate belief that the passage of time erases slow, why not say brutally.
is not a complaint or even a cry, though I would say in a scream as an outburst of indignation altered. Lest
forget to lie to you, maybe so, waking like a dream everything is carved in the skin, and cleared by the wild frenzy of inhuman pain of the naked truth to beautiful lies strokes.
Maybe the world is wise is vital nature, in their fierce struggle for the unequal survival. But surely the world is cruel is its macabre puzzle by giving in to the relentless struggle to live at any price.
While living ...
always cost us death.
good trip friend.
Ina.
musical planet 
0 comments:
Post a Comment