Vacillating flameIn the light of a candle, I only see your face, The light that pledges, To ever love you , To ever cherish you.This candle enlightens us both, So that you too can, Observe my light part, That pledges, To ever love me , To ever cherish me.This flame is fragile, It's faltering With each breath, Iridescent, With each doubt, She declines, When everyone takes his way.It will shut down, If the breath, mixed in doubt And the road, Separates us.
The decline of cultureInspired by: http://thedeclineofculture.blogspot.com/Ok Let's start by saying that I agree 100% on what you're saying right now.And now let's get to the good part, the why I agree with you. Because an agreement without a reason to back it up is not worth anything, like I don't like you because you're black, and to my defense I must say that on my early age I was like that, but then I met some black people, and really like them, so I could not say anymore that I don't like black people. So I started my crusade to try the same approach with all the other people. I know buddist people, marocan people, french people, maxican people, english
First kissFirst kissAn intense look,An extreme feeling,Heart tightens,Nothing matters anymore,Happiness without cloud,The beats are being heard,The lips are touching,The beings merge,It is paradise,In my memory is written,This so magnificent time,This ideal so perfect.
ViolinViolin,Exhilarating Music,Singing notes,You go straight to the heart,You bring happiness,A pinch is enough,A shift as well,And let's go!When I'm listening,I immediately feel ,If your voice is sad or not,This fills me with joy,Or sorrow,Each time,Your notes are so beautiful,That I fell in love with them,An imaginary love,A symphony ever more beautiful,I'm dreaming,Of playing you,To make this air flow,That I have in my mind,To celebrate,Or scream distress.
TiredI am tired:Tired of suffering.Tired of not knowing what to do.Tired of having no news.Tired of this incessant quarrel we have.Tired of only being able to talk to you throughout this paper.Tired of trying to understand you.Tired of wiping my tears.Tired of loving you more than I loves myself.Tired of you being so close and at the same time so far away from me.Tired of hearing my heart scream.Tired that you don't listen to me.Tired of you flowing me with torrent of insults.Tired of thinking of you every night.Tired of not being able to tell you I love you.Tired of being tired.But I want to be tired of you because
Leaf stone scissorLeaf stone scissorLeaf:She believes that winter is already here,She doesn't want more sap.But other leafs say to her,Look! It's summertime!The weather is nice! It's hot!But the leaf did not believe them,Because she was in the middle of the tree,Where no one can see her.The sun wasn't touching her,Or very little,She thought to be the leaf the less well endowed from the tree,Yet despite the lack of sun,She was flourishing.Certainly not as much as the others,But as much as she could.And she therefore spent the summer sad and stunted.Then came the fall,The tree to keep his strength,Had not other choice but