Although the hope of past days rottens today in the air and who promised to comfort my soul vanish into nothingness, there will by beauty in my sadness. Although my wallet is empty by the price of happiness and Im abandoned to my luck at the mercy of my torments, there will be beauty in my sadness. Disinherited I am of my own life who cares? Who cares if I show the gun by the lonelyness that devours me and the messages I receive come from banks and operators? The conquests of this year have not filled my emptiness, I only want somebody to share it, do you know where she is? While I can to write and be an artist there will be beauty in the sadness, my sadness, far beyond the torture who has usurped my destiny... Paul Hayward.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Dec 2014 12:03:35 +0000