Tears of rain
The sky was of gold. Magic, splendid beautiful. In the distance, black clouds accumulated. They grew bigger, being stretched around the cathedral, coming to choke the gold nuggets. The pressure went up little by little. The gold nuggets sought to flee. They struggled this so particular bright light of the last glare of the day. But the surrounding of the black clouds intensified unrelentingly. The anguish was done throbbing. I was impotent spectator in front of this announced death. Stupidly, I tightened the hand of an involuntary gesture. Why did I do it? I do not know anything of it. My finger touched the sky, bursting the gold bubble which had been formed. Then this continuous luminous flood spouted out coming to cover the cathedral. In the sky, the clouds were gone from there crying of rain
Lire la suiteWhen you were the colossus…
What did it arrive at your legendary force, your disproportionate power, you it colossus of power and force? I remember these moments, where raising the rocks of your projecting muscles, you forced admiration. Your valiancy, your courage were legendary. You did not have limits. Ultimate stage of the perfection, you were an example. You were so much of things. You were especially the colossus. This simple word imposed the respect. There was only you able to carry this qualifier. It represented you. He was you. But, today, that did you become? With your bandaged eyes, your lowered nape of the neck, your crushed muscles, you are nothing any more but the statue of your glorious last. What a shame! What a waste! Who suited to subject thus? I do not dare to imagine it, you it servile and cheap prone free spirit become. Would you have lost the word? It seems it. Moreover nobody wants to hear your whispered explanations, your badly assumed excuses. One cannot see this image which disturbs. One wants to remember your glorious last where you did not lower the head, where you advanced the head high, ready to raise so much of challenges. These days are yesterday when you walked heavily of the weight of your perfect muscles and that you were called the colossus…
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J'aime ce qui est gothique, ce qui est romantique, je vous présente mes textes et mes photos. I like what is gothic, what is romantic, I present my texts and photos Steffan Urell
