I just wrote this.... Dead Angels... Where was the world when I fell from the skies? Why is the shadow over me, taking all the seeds of a story where I am the plot? How did heaven push my spirit into the cold, darkness of night? And I remember the future from the ancient of times as a birth when I first cried to the Earth. I have nothing to be, and all the faces have moved away, where I have not even become. Theres pain, but it has become the pleasure of thrills to be anything I want because this is not world, and I am the light in the darkness that seems eternal, that it will break away somewhere, where my death will becomes alive. And theres nothing now that I want, when all my passions have been destroyed by a shadow, laughing in my heart, telling me, reminding me of my own ugliness, that I would be forever as a human, but apart from people, roaming in the endless reassess of my dreams, and theyre filled with monsters of gray, giving me more gifts of talent. And I thought it was all beautiful to be the evil one, but I am not the gifts of purity nor am I a symbol, but an emotion dying to be normal, and its something so far from me that I can just reach it in my thoughts, picture it as a reality, but a fantasy as I am surrounded by clouds of dead angels taking me.
Posted on: Mon, 10 Mar 2014 05:25:24 +0000
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