Fortune is dead,
Her corpse lies.,
Broken on glass,
Dissolving emtions.
Strike the coldest encounter,
The day your brains will break,
Fortune now accompanishes you,
For no longer ’till now.
-
Recent Posts
Recent Comments
Tincup on What marthachiara on Be Idebenone on Aside Tincup on Aside lista de email on Go to Hell Archives
Categories
- Alcohol
- Amusement
- anger
- art
- artist
- Bars
- Burden
- Carnival
- Caution
- City
- Days
- Düsseldorf
- Death
- destruction
- die
- Emotions
- Essen
- Father
- Feeling
- Feelings
- forgivness
- Friends
- Generations
- glory
- hell
- Infinity
- late
- Life
- Love
- Music
- new
- News
- not
- Other
- Parents
- passion
- People
- Philosophy
- Pictures
- Poem
- Poems
- Poetry
- rage
- range
- Reality
- Redemption
- Reduction
- Remarks
- schizophrenic
- Sensless
- Thoughts
- Uncategorized
- unknown
- Value
- Walk
- Woods
Meta
Martha Chiara 