Pale haze skies impose an odious note, in anger and sadness, with yellow smog cloud it begs for a chance to turn around to the door parting mirth and apathy. What is an aged man without love? only a lifeless statue with memories of the painful gift of human nature. The sound of reversed lights, the empathy, it all felt to much to him. The absences drives down a beaten path to almost the point of termination. Only love can save him, only love can make it fair. Despite all his sheer will he stands amid a cesspool of toys and defunct fools, quotidian lifeforms. Of frolicking swans he writes a song, hopes a melody will play like a flashback into the memories of the other experiments, if infact, inactivity remains and a women fails to receive emitting. Why had he not concluded the boundaries of happiness? why did he not wait until grey days was all he had left? why must he have to force what pleasure in life is. I suppose, a tormented soul was meant to be, to be the ambrosia for the rest of the tormented souls.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
