I am believer of you. Atheist of me.
I would have the force to assemble on the lathe all up there to see the world, to listen...
One evening melancholy
One evening melancholy. In the guise of one black night. Recovering this past with the...
The unfinished requiem
There is in you a prohibited door. Behind which the ogre of your thoughts lives carrying...
The slow repetition of your fingers on the piano
The slow repetition of your fingers on the piano. The plaintive sound which escapes from...
A cry in the night
A cry in the night. Come from the bottom of darkness. Tearing off me from the bed....
The sleeping beauty
To run in wet grasses. Under the rain, under hail through wood and of the forests....
Never to leave us
I remember of this rainy day. Where we were both. In seaside. Taking the air....
Love letter
Why believe you? Why accept your reality? Distorted. By all your nauseas. Spitting on...
In the prison city
I walk in search of our past. From these strange days where one walked. In the streets...
At the end of the white road
At the end of the white road. There is this ruin. All at the top of the hill. There,...
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
