English Version
gothique et romantique

How to tell you ?

Publié le 24 Oct 2013

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

How to tell you ? To retain you ? Without you to make vomit, nor to fade. I am not that which you believed. Draftsman of the day, of the night, of bad times. Thus you saw me. I all had not said you. By whim, desire to look elegant ? Don’t I know i t? I have a secret garden. Where I paint the good and the evil. In a fatal disorder. Who attacks me. I cannot demolish myself some. Where that I go. It is thus. In front of the fabric of a field of fog. I sat down. To draw brush of misfortune. A city, its alleys, its walks, its ballot boxes. Where the oaths of the lovers burn. Under the roofs, I slipped while crawling. Carpet in the black. Killing the hope. Whitewashing the walls of the stench of my offenses. Born from the deliquescence of my silences. To speak to you about it would have to lead you to leave me. You preferred my inhabited smiles. Of this extreme glance which heated you. I lied you. By play, lassitude, me the bad one. I always was it. Blowing the storm on the city which I had just created. I did not want any more to play. Nothing any more amused me. In me, you had entered. I had not seen it arriving. Drawing on the roofs of the city of the broken hearts. Venom of my sharp-edged arrows. Soaked in the blood of my ridiculed body. To have abused you. By lying you on the single truth to acknowledge you. That I loved you. But, it would have very been necessary to deliver to you. My being, my reasons, my insanity, the nature of my wandering. It would have been necessary to add the repentance to it. To be to me a long time hidden. Behind this made up smile. Too many efforts required. Starting with more lying you.How to tell you? To retain you? Without you to make vomit, nor to fade. I am not that which you believed. To imagine you to weaken or even die, I could not it. On the table where I had walked you, I erased you. Small abandoned silhouette. I covered you with white. Of a thick layer so that you cannot release yourself. Slowly. I imprisoned you. Without hesitating, crying, shouting. Only means of not making you suffer. I believed to be able to forget you of a sigh. Now, I suffocate, I do not manage to leave. Bewitched by the white fabric. In front of which I pour out. I dug in the colors in search of you. Breaking my single law. Never not to look behind me. I could not find you. Now, I have badly, of an infernal pain. Who emphasizes in me the animal. Whose bite will be fatal for me. It advances devouring by rancour the tears of my happiness. Those which it me remained of you. But, I am not afraid any more. How to tell you? To retain You? Without you to make vomit, nor to fade. I became that which you believed.

le sang de la nuit, la naissance de l'ange, decouvrez le dernier roman de steffan urell

Votre avis sur cet article ?

Votre adresse e-mail ne sera pas publiée.

This site is protected by wp-copyrightpro.com

This function has been disabled for Gothique-et-Romantique.