sábado, 29 de junho de 2013
so far from now
and before they bring your body from the past, you may rest some, so the clouds can find you in the right place. Those whose hearts are broken, for them your grave shall always be a shadowy sorrow, non image behind possible being cities. And for love shall be free whatsoever, between these clouds and the earthquake upon your past one may find what he searches. No tiny word, no greater, could be more conspicuous on this matter of living and dying. To dig deep, they say, one should think about himself. What is life but an endless digging one's own grave?
Postado por Luis Gustavo Cardoso às 14:07