Poem, I know this is not the right place to come up with those things... But I cannot dare anymore, you may say what you want...
The picture who lived within itself..
Old times of losten hate.. it claim'd.
To show their power, of the memorble force.
The false tune, fled O fled against the opening of the frame.
What should it do? the twisted mind where after, to suck it's life to the end...
The opening where near, Run the fears light, run.
You are close now, O thou lovly tune.
It saw the brigh dreams overhead.
Together my rutten fear,
It saw, the future, that coulden't happen!
Black shadows defend their only dream... against the light valley, of bright meadows... Tired hopes is falling to sleep... and slowly entering the wonderfull world, without memory... The exchange of this almost frighten movie... does their masters, scream O scream out their hopeless loneliness... To the enemies of lies...
Poems...
Poems...
OHEJ