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Blank thought spinning in the wise man's brain, wondering if it shows that he is going insane.
The distance between idiocy and genious is me.
The late ringer pulls in his rope to give a sign, that death has not taken his soul for endless time.
The distance between life and death is free.
Drowning, falling, dying, fading...
The candles fading out and leaves the seeing blind, just like the future hopes for the entire (lost) mankind.
The distance between past and future is now.
Lifeless statements told by our superiors each day, the road to armageddon seems to be the only way.
There's distance between love and hate somehow.
Drowning, falling, dying, fading...

Text eingefügt von roman59

Of Magic Illusions

Ancestral Legacy texte