In the end, what kills you Is not the great machinations of t… But the small battles of your own… And the soul shrivels And the heart follows the painless…
Born from a bloody battle Between Restraint and Pleasure, The blood that flowed was sweet an… Bacchus rescued the carcass, Covered with flowers, fruits, and…
Autumn winds in the morning Flowing through my flesh and bones… Autumn winds after a scorching sum… Cleaning away the ashes of what it… Autumn winds renewing the earth
I see my foolishness in others, A translucent absurdity of chances… And I’m ashamed. You reached out to me, And I was blind,
The day started with the most human of feelings: that of our own mortality, through the rituals we arrange for our departed. From that helpless feeling came a hopeful one... and then we...
Blue on blue and the stench of blu… Happy, friendly faces, Desperate inside, And the thought of you, A sad memory,
Recette pour un long amour : prenez toutes les papillons que vous avez a l’estomac a chaque fois que vous la voyez, et que son visage et tout son corps s’illumine au contact de vos rega...
It’s so fast, Death. So painful. No goodbyes. It has the will and determination of a decision we could never take.…
I wonder if Einstein, in his hapl… Did compute the time paradox that… When two lovers are away from each… Time do go slower, like an eternit… When you are away from me.
Je me lève de mon linceul humide Je cherche l’air, l’esprit, la vie… Je te cherche toi, Peut être de l’autre côté de la po… Tu m’attends.
If you ask me for a kiss In the middle of a crowd Or you ask me for a kiss In the middle of nowhere Chances are it’ll be the same
I’m no one’s monster. I walk up and down my own darkness… Enjoying the bleeding freedom Fought and won over the dim light… I’m no one’s pain.
Some certainties are like steel, They don’t bend easily or break, Or disappear into thin air. They stand true and naked In the face of hesitation,
Left on the shore Crying Like a child lost in the crowd Longing for ghosts and illusions Buried in the fog
A thorn buried in the flesh becomes familiar after a while. The pain becomes usual, with an undefined warmth, as you keep dancing,