Au bout , je suis la
"Au bout de l ennui ruisseau de mémoires englouties devenues torrents déchainés de tourbillons de folie
Le miel le ciel , les silences et les absences , rien de tout cela n est plus qu un souvenir d'un voyage au centre de l'oubli
Ces sanglots farandole de chagrin , une larme enfoncée dans un cœur englouti par trop de désillusions sans utopies ...
See MoreLe miel le ciel , les silences et les absences , rien de tout cela n est plus qu un souvenir d'un voyage au centre de l'oubli
Ces sanglots farandole de chagrin , une larme enfoncée dans un cœur englouti par trop de désillusions sans utopies ...
At the end, I am the
" at the end of l boredom stream of sunken memories have become wild torrents of eddies of madness
The Honey the sky, the silences and absences, none of this n is more than a memory of a journey to the center of oblivion
These sobs farandole of grief, a tear down in a heart engulfed by too many disappointments without utopias
The time that has passed, the seconds the minutes the years, injuries without noise on the surface of life
I'm the and j wait l shadow of this moment
I'm the and I can smell the incense of my yesteryear
Beyond the cries of pain flickering flame of a candle that is dying in the mist of this last winter
Regret, remorse, errors and falls, all this n is more than a feather in my mind without glow
This song, soul spindle devouring flowing in my veins, cacophony of a lullaby fleeing fear
The time has slipped, the seconds the minutes the years, scars tattooed shroud of my last few hours
I'm the and j wait l shadow of this moment
I'm the and I can smell the incense of my yesteryear
Beyond the tears paid on the altar of my innocence stolen, hymen broke up a little girl lost in not being loved
The dreams, the sighs, the truths and the lies, all this n is more than a cloud of distress delivered to the winds bad
This Fragrance D an existence without benchmarks, curse of the children of the desert marching at the discretion of missed rendez-vous
The time that s stop, the seconds the minutes the years, steams veiled by a curtsey to eternity
I'm the and j wait l shadow of this moment
I'm the and I can smell the incense of my yesteryear "
©Broken Angel
" at the end of l boredom stream of sunken memories have become wild torrents of eddies of madness
The Honey the sky, the silences and absences, none of this n is more than a memory of a journey to the center of oblivion
These sobs farandole of grief, a tear down in a heart engulfed by too many disappointments without utopias
The time that has passed, the seconds the minutes the years, injuries without noise on the surface of life
I'm the and j wait l shadow of this moment
I'm the and I can smell the incense of my yesteryear
Beyond the cries of pain flickering flame of a candle that is dying in the mist of this last winter
Regret, remorse, errors and falls, all this n is more than a feather in my mind without glow
This song, soul spindle devouring flowing in my veins, cacophony of a lullaby fleeing fear
The time has slipped, the seconds the minutes the years, scars tattooed shroud of my last few hours
I'm the and j wait l shadow of this moment
I'm the and I can smell the incense of my yesteryear
Beyond the tears paid on the altar of my innocence stolen, hymen broke up a little girl lost in not being loved
The dreams, the sighs, the truths and the lies, all this n is more than a cloud of distress delivered to the winds bad
This Fragrance D an existence without benchmarks, curse of the children of the desert marching at the discretion of missed rendez-vous
The time that s stop, the seconds the minutes the years, steams veiled by a curtsey to eternity
I'm the and j wait l shadow of this moment
I'm the and I can smell the incense of my yesteryear "
©Broken Angel
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