English Version
gothique et romantique

This morning

Publié le 24 Déc 2014

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

This morning, the frost fell. On the fields and near. This morning, the frost lengthened. On frozen grasses. Cracking under the feet. Me going from there to find you. I know. That you expected me. Waits, refrigerated. Since all these years. I do not want to humiliate you. I go from a step in a hurry. To avoid you. Of you impatienter. In the head the covered in mist requiem. Of a made fragrant memory. Ours, almost forgotten. Carried. By the river come to cart. The good and the bad one. Between channeled banks. The fussy one to steal it to us. Without being able to it to be opposed. This morning, the frost fell. To revive. The wound. Our marked hearts. Blocked by fate. To have to be erased. Vis-a-vis the destiny. Without being able anything to prevent. I come to find you. Near to this river which carried you. Without face, anything to hang up again itself. Deriving towards the infinite abyss. Without cross to remember. The vacuum to imagine. Your smiles, our be delirious atrophied. Under the weight of years. Veiled to be itself stray. I am mortified. In Front of this impossibility. To put a face on the reflection. Mirror of water in a hurry. That I am alone to look at. Seeking to speak to you. To tell You my regrets. I believe that you can listen to them. I need to think it. Not to make feel guilty. To fight after all these years. This morning, the frost fell. On the tomb of our past. It was needed. To veil the worn colors. This imposed fate. To be separate. You, in a world which I cannot imagine. From where you must look at me. Perhaps to judge me? I did not forget you. That you cannot reproach it to me. I like to seek you. Carried by the melancholy of an unobtrusive time. Where one liked. To find itself. In the fields and near. At the edge of the river, the feet wet. To look at floating our projects. Letting derive. On the sticks which we had thrown. To transport them. Hold went. Further that mine, a fate. I envied you. One day, I did not forget. You left to find them. This morning, the frost fell. On the fields and near. This morning, the frost lengthened. On frozen grasses. Cracking under the feet. Me going from there to find you. I know. That you expected me. I have still the force to hope for it.

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.