True passion's soul borns where a dream is fleetingly instigate to end. And is the dreamer, he who in cruel reality is slowly intended to die. Me, passionate dreamer, I have tried a lot of climbs and madly in the end I've reached only one peak, called abiss.
I'd wish so much to be born from your agony, to die because of you... in a love tear's delight.
I enjoy with Life... before Death enjoy with me.
I often change love in poetry... I call it "my pain". In its shades, I dip the ink for my rhymes. Black paints that white page of life.
Lightnings tear the night, thunders shake into the heart and wind run away every connection with emotion. Storm quickly invades soul, while the early rain falls down profuse from the eyes... Into rough memory that reveals (speaks) again of you... My only love.
Will we really have fortitude to leave again from a bitter tear already missing between ashes of a forgotten time?
To pass through mind's border is not difficult as it seems... just to be open to do an amazing trip.
Night has lost all of her charm, since when you travel over unknown skies, unattainable from my sad gaze... Goodbye Guiding Star.
I'm the secret guardian of the Ace of spade, and I'm always waiting for my only Heart's Queen to come!
Deads speak, deads listen, deads exist and in memory... they revive between sad heart's beats.