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gothique et romantique

Posts made in mars 11th, 2015

Captain of your heart

Publié le 11 Mar 2015 | Aucun commentaire

Captain of your heart

romantisch, gothique, romantique, gotisch, rêve, fantastique, fantastisch, sombre, dunkel, traum, romántico, gótico, soñado, oscuro, fantástico, romantico, gotico, sognato, scuro, fantastico, porte, eau, pierres, , eau, see, mer, cimetière, croix, poème d’amour, lettre d’amour, roman gothique, poème romantique, lettre romantique, poème gothique, gothique et romantique, larme, église gothique, mélancolique, mélancolie, nuit, night, dark, sombre, memories, souvenirs, melancoly, soulages, Baudelaire, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Soulages, noir, baudelaire, verlaine, rimbaud, friedrich, Friedrich, Nietsche, nietsche, noir, black, Maupassant, Mary Shelley, Lewis, Irving, Frankenstein, vampire, vampyre

Captain of your heart, in evenings when everything goes wrong. That nothing makes sense. You, little girl, my fatal innocence. My fuel, my essence. We two farther than our hearts do not dare. In the sunset of the sun on the bay. Where your soul settles. Amusing, causing. The gods, the devils, their two feet to be danced in the water. Hating itself, dashing  swearword. Kissing us, provoking them. Durably, infinitely, all the time. Walking  in her rock in sinking. In their souls, their quicksands. Trampling them absolutely. Unsurprisingly of this slow drift. At night when our shadows arrive. The cold with. Violent and dry. The sky, its infinity, the desire  to be gobbled up. Farther than the Mont Saint-Michel, his archangel Gabriel. An evening of November on the frozen ground. To bang near the winter. You, little girl, my fatal innocence. Come console her poverties. Running away on the moor and its mysteries. Where do we go? Running as crazy? There is nothing more behind us. Left on a fit of madness. In the life, in the death, up to the end of our desires. On the night borders. Cherished by the vibrations of a violin. Ropes tightened on your heart, its partitions. Shelling the stream of its regrets. Exaggerated to make cry. I know you, you like feeling sorry. To haunt me, coil you in my thoughts. Never forget you. You, little girl, my fatal innocence. I like your body heat. The color of your blue eyes. Your laughter, your sighs. The reddening sun knocking at the door of your empire. I may not abandon you. To go where? At the bottom of a hole? The gods, the devils to laugh. The sea taking me far from you. In a country without queen, nor king. Eaten away by this infernal pain. You, little girl, my fatal innocence. With this unilateral fear. That you think only of you. I see you walking in front of me. Following you as a doggie. I am crazy. Of your blue eyes. Supernatural. Languishing. Disrespectful. Paradoxical. You, little girl, my fatal innocence. Stronger than me. Our life, our law. Once upon a time. Our prison environment. You, little girl, my fatal innocence. Our years filtered in the hourglass. Abyssal. A hope, a groan. You little girl, my fatal innocence. Tiny for a maximal desire. Disappearing in the distant. I shall be there tomorrow. When you will return. You promised it. to me. Swearing that I am. The captain of your heart, in evenings when everything goes wrong. That nothing makes sense. You, little girl, my fatal innocence. My fuel, my essence.

 

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Our wonderful world

Publié le 11 Mar 2015 | Aucun commentaire

Our wonderful world

romantisch, gothique, romantique, gotisch, rêve, fantastique, fantastisch, sombre, dunkel, traum, romántico, gótico, soñado, oscuro, fantástico, romantico, gotico, sognato, scuro, fantastico, porte, eau, pierres, , eau, see, mer, cimetière, croix, poème d’amour, lettre d’amour, roman gothique, poème romantique, lettre romantique, poème gothique, gothique et romantique, larme, église gothique, mélancolique, mélancolie, nuit, night, dark, sombre, memories, souvenirs, melancoly, soulages, Baudelaire, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Soulages, noir, baudelaire, verlaine, rimbaud, friedrich, Friedrich, Nietsche, nietsche, noir, black, Maupassant, Mary Shelley, Lewis, Irving, Frankenstein, vampire, vampyre

In our wonderful world, there is not of nights, of suns which run away. There are enjoying a peaceful existence waters, sleepy fishes. The fishermen are empty-handed and kind to it. Dreamers, the walkers enjoy the present time its slowness. At any time, always in a good mood. It is not cold but warmly. Everybody is young and beautiful. The sun shines every day quite above. His brightness in your eyes makes me happy, loving. Us, both, in our wonderful world. In symbiosis in this bubble which articulates. In the joint of another universe, its fractures. Blind us not to see. As the small monkeys, the hand on the mouth, the eyes, the ears not to know. Deluding us with an illusion become our reason. Turning and turning around the lake our bottom of bag. In our wonderful world we look for nothing. We find only endless days being enough for our hunger. To love itself is our currency far from the stock market price, the fall of its currencies. Go up to the surface of the water bubbles brought out of some mud. Decorate with flowers all these flowers which we shall never put in muds. We fall asleep when the day is tinged with grey. We make small. To avoid being afraid, protecting itself from our torpor. Numb, make limp, made languid. We close eyes so that everything gets better. In our wonderful world, we enjoy a peaceful existence. People are not envious or whimsical. Walk as auks around the lake. Rhythm on the melody and its tick-tock walk there. Everything goes well. Without the slightest clinker. We are happy in our wonderful world. Hand in hand. Always by closing eyes.

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Capitaine de ton coeur

Publié le 11 Mar 2015 | Aucun commentaire

romantisch, gothique, romantique, gotisch, rêve, fantastique, fantastisch, sombre, dunkel, traum, romántico, gótico, soñado, oscuro, fantástico, romantico, gotico, sognato, scuro, fantastico, porte, eau, pierres, , eau, see, mer, cimetière, croix, poème d’amour, lettre d’amour, roman gothique, poème romantique, lettre romantique, poème gothique, gothique et romantique, larme, église gothique, mélancolique, mélancolie, nuit, night, dark, sombre, memories, souvenirs, melancoly, soulages, Baudelaire, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Soulages, noir, baudelaire, verlaine, rimbaud, friedrich, Friedrich, Nietsche, nietsche, noir, black, Maupassant, Mary Shelley, Lewis, Irving, Frankenstein, vampire, vampyre

Capitaine de ton cœur, les soirs quand tout va mal.  Que plus rien n’a de sens.  Toi, petite fille, ma candeur fatale. Mon carburant, mon essence. Nous deux plus loin que nos cœurs n’osent. Dans le couchant du soleil sur la baie. Là où ton âme se pose. S’amusant, provoquant. Les dieux, les diables, leurs deux pieds à danser dans l’eau. Se détestant, se lançant des gros mots.  Nous embrassant, les provoquant. Durablement, infiniment, tout le temps.  Marchant dans la tangue en s’enfonçant. Dans leurs âmes, leurs sables mouvants. Les piétinant absolument. Sans surprise de cette lente dérive.  La nuit quand  nos ombres arrivent. Le froid avec. Violent et sec. Le ciel, son infini, l’envie d’être engloutis. Plus loin que le Mont-Saint-Michel, son archange Gabriel. Un soir de novembre sur le sol gelé. A cogner aux portes de l’hiver. Toi, petite fille, ma candeur fatale. Venue consoler ses misères. S’enfuyant sur la lande et ses mystères. Où allons-nous ? Courant comme des fous ? Il n’y a plus rien derrière nous. Partis sur un coup de folie. A la vie, à la mort, jusqu’au bout de nos envies. Aux frontières de la nuit. Caressés par les vibrations d’un violon. Les cordes tendues sur ton cœur, ses partitions. Égrenant le flot de ses regrets. Exagérés pour faire pleurer. Je te connais, tu aimes t’apitoyer. Pour me hanter, te lover dans mes pensées. Ne jamais t’oublier. Toi, petite fille, ma candeur fatale. J’aime ta chaleur animale. La couleur de tes yeux bleus. Tes rires, tes soupirs. Le soleil rougeoyant frappant à la porte de ton empire. Je ne puis t’abandonner. Pour aller où ? Au fond d’un trou ? Les dieux, les diables à se moquer. La mer m’emportant loin de toi. Dans un pays sans reine, ni roi. Rongé par cette douleur infernale. Toi, petite fille, ma candeur fatale. Avec cette peur unilatérale. Que tu ne penses qu’à toi. Je te vois marcher devant moi.  Te suivant comme un toutou. Je suis fou. De tes yeux bleus. Merveilleux. Langoureux. Irrévérencieux. Paradoxal. Toi, petite fille, ma candeur fatale. Plus forte que moi. Notre vie, notre loi. Il était une fois. Notre univers carcéral. Toi, petite fille, ma candeur fatale. Nos années filtrées dans le sablier. Abyssal. Un espoir, un râle. Toi petite fille, ma candeur fatale. Infinitésimale pour un désir maximal. Disparaissant  dans le lointain. Je serai là demain. Quand tu reviendras. Tu me l’as promis. Jurant que je suis. Le capitaine de ton cœur, les soirs quand tout va mal.  Que plus rien n’a de sens.  Toi, petite fille, ma candeur fatale. Mon carburant, mon essence.

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