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gothique et romantique

Our wonderful world

Publié le 11 Mar 2015

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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.

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

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