The final stage of Sadness: There is no difference between tears and stones. The Heart becomes a rock, and the Blood skating rink for the devils- My Lord! Have you got any places left in Paradise?
Everything that yells for life in me, asks me to give up my faith in God. And what does not man do for his Life...
There is a threshold of Bitterness. Once reached, you do not have the possibility to find comfort in Illusions or to mistify yourself with Phantoms anymore. From that moment, the Lucidity envenoms pitiless, yearning his prey. The Bitterness becomes the substance of every day, and all the feelings link monotonously like a chain of incurable griefs...
Life is to filled with Death for Death to bring Life something new.
After you have been thinking very much of Death and only of Death, you arrive to think that perhaps you have lost your time with a colosal lie. Being above Death, the truth under you can only be a hoax...
Only God shall pray for the one within there is nothing left to die.
The soud of violin is the sound made by the opening Gate of Paradise. Which is the right comparison for an angel’s sigh?
Life has something of an ending spring. A coffin hanged by the stars, a rotten virginity, a floral vice. This mixture of grave-yard and paradise...
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