quinta-feira, 9 de outubro de 2008

A glance on the inside

It's hard to find, and even harder to keep on looking, the right words that mean something to me. Trying to see the benefit for such a coward effort, a light to guide the way of my writing into a higher level. I can't see the pain caused in others for the acid rain that I for long wait, I ignore all the emotions that come to my mouth and are spit out by a chance of fate. Notwithstanding this terrible emptiness that I feel inside, I grown to become a shallow image of the Horned one, sever of the Goddess. To them I give my lust and await forgiveness, not submitting, never dying.
A God-like man, a God-like stand, the justice hold in my hand, a power of persistence equals the power of a fool. My nymph. will you take my hand a tolerate my disobedience, in this night, so cold, that I spend alone? Rejoicing at the face of failure, a laughter becomes true in the deepest winds that blow over this city, illuminated by the artificial light for us created. Now rejecting the one's for them created, a cry upon this shelter, I look to dismay all the small beings that have heritage the forests. To gain right upon such a beautiful thing, to be such pure beings, don't allow me to reach that path for what I've done is now concealed in the coffin of the gods.
Break the spell and come trough the Moon, the cry of a wolf is the Mother Earth's sign to say goodbye to this night. It's late and the clouds in the sky threat another day of rain and sadness. In the pouring rain, I offer you my tears. Let them go trough the sewage, in the middle of the filth, where they are most likely to be confused with the rest of the dirt. For I say nothing more than letters of despair and past dreams, I've become a hole, a torn, in your path. For one more second of useless pride, Zhelia, I would give you my soul. But we shall not go back, for my life has the limit of time. So has your beauty. And I sit here, a shell of the principals I once had, in the youth of my immortal life.

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