We sail without din in a sea of lies,
and our moldy ships, covered with broken mirrors,
distort the truth, and transfuse us into forgotten ghosts.
Our hearts fly like empty bags,
hope becomes a dagger without a handle.
But, it stopped hurting.
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#43. OLIVE TREE
In the labyrinth of my mind, darkness and light intermingle. The past is a shadow, the present a battle. But on the horizon shines a light...
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The gloom of the room clamors more loudly for its place, And the din of silence creates a disturbing decor, The scent of dreams becomes to... -
Our mind is a ruined castle, with its lost towers. Madness whispers from the cracks, and truth spills from the walls. Our thoughts, echoes o...
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