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@lacus-daemonis
Mystical Unicorn tapestry weave style fabric
Tu existes encore. Un peu.
Là, dans le silence de tes sourires presque effacés.
Tes amis viennent à toi comme des fragments ; ils viennent et se souviennent de l'éclat ancien de ta jeunesse, de ces jours que le temps a lentement brûlé.
Toi, l'homme qui n'a jamais pu se résoudre à habiter ses rêves.
Et je me demande, parfois, si tu leur as seulement laissé l'espace de respirer avant de les abandonner.
Je regarde ta poitrine. Je la fixe avec peur. Oui. Par peur de la voir s'immobiliser. Que le soupir qui s'en échappe soit le dernier messager de ton existence.
L'heure approche.
Bientôt, ce sera à mon tour de demeurer seul. Je n'aurai plus, pour compagnie, que des tombes à fleurir et des noms gravés dans le silence.
Je suis.
Par simplicité, par orgueil, sans doute, je me réfugie sous les ailes de ces noirs corbeaux. J'y cache mes sanglots, j'y enfouis les larmes que tu n'auras jamais su sécher.
Ces larmes d'enfant s'élèvent en un chœur funèbre, une plainte ardente qui consume la nuit et nourrit le brasier de la douleur.
Je suis.
J'observe les vies que tu laisses derrière toi. J'observe le présent qui se défait lentement, tandis que le futur s'avance déjà, condamné à répéter les mêmes histoires, les mêmes absences, les mêmes deuils.
Tu t'éloignes de la rive.
De cette rive qui berce encore les vivants et recueille leurs espoirs fragiles.
Tu t'éloignes.
Et l'heure approche.
" I'm a savage I'm obsessive, I'm dramatic I'm a loner, I'm an addict I'm so goddamn problematic I'm the bad guy, I'm a loser I'm a psycho, believe the rumors I got bad thoughts, I got bad vibes I don't act right, it's nice to meet you "
perervina_art
" Parfois, je me demande à quoi aurait ressemblé ma vie si j'avais eu la chance de vraiment vivre, au lieu de passer mon temps à guérir des blessures que je n'avais pas mérités, à porter des fardeaux qui n'étaient pas les miens et à chercher des réponses à des questions que je n'avais jamais posées. "
V.H
We know that eternity exists only in the depths of heaven.
Tell me.
Where will we go when one of us dies?
You cannot remain waiting on the shore. I cannot come.
Do you feel deep in your chest, behind your two magnificent breasts, beneath the modesty of a heartbeat, that our next meeting will take place behind a cold marble screen?
We had an unchanging dream, like a viper coiling on the hot rock of hell.
Our minds were filled with ravens.
Oh, Devil! I already see myself in the remorse of her last breath.
When other beings can hold her in their arms, when all the specters of the undergrowth reach me like the shroud of truth, the death knell will announce the end.
I never wished for this. Imprisoned in a love that refuses to turn to ash. An eternal fire.
Will it come this day or this night, God willing, may it come in winter!
To remember, to recall the biting cold of your land.
Where our souls whispered a shy farewell, unspoken by our lips.
That's it! I want you to decorate my withered tears with winter's ink.
I love you, and I'm sorry.
" An Archon waits by the river The Archon waits for me Watching myself dissolve I'm stuck inside this dream
It waits in shadows deep Its' eyes are fixed on me I fall silent into the void Far from the Mercy Seat
And they call us Sinners But we are the last Believers They call us Sinners There's an Archon by the river They've always preyed on me Even now as life has left me Their currеnt, my ceaseless tidе
Oh God, I am drowning Another name without a memory This light is cruel and blinding Devoid of symmetry
And they call us Sinners No, we're the last Believers! They call us Sinners
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Oh, shooting star Drown in me! Drink Forget Repeat
Oh, shooting star
Oh, restless soul Drown in me! Drink Forget Repeat "
Lost in a dream.
"We are strangers now.
Hearts broken by my choices.
The blame weighs heavily on my soul.
All these expectations are murderous.
Was I too impatient before our lips could touch?
I see the Devil laughing.
A hellish storm rages in my heart when I think of our funeral.
No angel will be present.
No wreath will be laid on the cold, mocking marble of our grave.
My demons rule far better when they stifle morality. "
Drywall is Getting Expensive
Je veux garder au fond de ma poitrine, l'étincelle qui siège dans tes yeux d'Italie.
Ma demeure est bien trop petite pour y garder une âme de plus.
Regardes-moi murmurer aux morts toutes mes sympathies les plus sincères lorsque je suis incapable de le faire pour les vivants.
Le temps passe et il nous change.
Mes doigts sur le guéridon, je sens encore ses mains froides sur mes épaules affaiblies.
J'ai voulu que tu t'effaces pour que je puisse partir.
C'était un mensonge enveloppé de baisers épineux.
Et les mensonges sont comme les démons.
Ils sont vêtus de beauté luminescente, mais les veines sont terreuses.
There are no more dreams to buy, no more hopes to sell for me.
I've felt so old for so long.
A feeling of wasting my story, a feeling of wasting my life without any real proof that I'm actually living it out.
Like a Christ suspended above the disgrace of this world.
I only had one choice to make.
And I vowed to choose my nightmares.
This irrepressible need to be entertained to escape my own execution.
My neck was broken from the moment of birth.
Didn't he say that existence is a theater where no one comes with their true face?
How many dead will I have to carry deep in my heart?
I can't see anything anymore. My eyes are in the formaldehyde of truth.
I haven't finished copulating with solitude through all the pairs of breasts that move before me.
The colors of love have lost so much flavor on my parched tongue.
I've chased after so much dystopia. I've shaped each of my lies into a viable struggle to breathe easier.
“Table for One” by Luca Ponsato
"
I squandered my youth for a wither'd (bitter) hour; All I ever wanted was a simple you Real love is dying for a phantasy
I held all of Heaven dead in my arms And in one moment, I knew all of Hell
Nothing but a body, naked, beaten The wreck of a soul, amidst thorns bleeding Bitterness is all God hath created; A proud king among the failures of dreams
I believe one love could be worth a life For life I would have burn'd myself away-- For nothing, life hath left me burning alone
Girl, know that time leaves dust on my scars; When the moment has pass'd, thousands will die I will remember when ghosts were mighty And I will laugh and catch my own tears
In a perfect garden, all flowers flourish In this real garden, my flower knows thirst I don't think I can lift my face to the sun again I don't think I can look at your face again And feel You were my everything, and you took It all away "
No matter the centuries gone by.
No matter the God they pray to.
No matter the country, no matter the taste for war.
No matter the cloak of hatred, its color, or the scent it has chosen to wear.
A king will always mourn his beloved as a mere man when she comes to kiss the damp earth of her ancestors.
" Nothing can hurt me anymore, anymore.
There is nothing left in my soul "
A miserable Life