La naissance d'un rêve

... and kissed the fairytale-land with pride under the trees of lust the leaves pure shadows on me which shelter me from the darkness which I was I hold the dreams, within my arms thrash the earth, within my tears and heal my wounds in meadows of light forgotten in the drowning land now I leave my wishes but love conquers all ... and every angel needs a tear to laugh calling the fall trust me, I am your lunacy embolded, enthroned so it's a king for a while but gloominess it seems so gentle the gestures of the gist ingrowing taste of dreams infatuate my gift, now it becomes light inexact but clear

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

Cras te victurum, cras dies (Postume) semper. Dic mihi, cras istud (Postume) quando venit? Quam longe cras istud, ubi est? Aut unde petendum? Numquid apud Parthos (Armeniosque) latet? Iam cras istud habet Priami vel Nestoris annos. Cras istud quanti, dic mihi, possit emi? Cras vives? Hodie iam vivere (Postume) serum est: ille sapit, quisquis, (Postume), vixit heri.

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

Zersetzt in blassem Licht, das Wärme gab schlief der Mensch im Lilienmeer scheinbar ewig wartend, aber werdend betrachtet von den Augen derer, die ihn liebten

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025

... and there is no sun not then and never again glossy nativity desirable perfume of light flavourless silence the beauty of the gist ... but what is the gist nothing or everything embedded in lies about the real sense of life the poise between the beginning and the end ... but this is the last dance escape from this thorn undying enrich me please in my thruth the slumber in enchantment deify the breath, my only passion ... but there is no sun no gesture no gist only me, only freedom, only life

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 26, 2025

Still drunken of spring's shining meadows and the myriads of flowers,we shut our eyes to the beauty and fell asleep... and oblivion erased our memories of fall and blinded our eyes. Overwhelming were the days as autumn embraced the land and zephyr kissed the sky with passion ... but more seldom we remembered the perfume of a long withered spring and summer caress faded like a candle in the wind, leaving a legacy of gold ... ... and still we slumbered dreamless and forlorn ... but for the sleepless who perceive a blossom's tear will be a monument of those long faded summers and bears the seed of a new spring ... and those will feel no mourning as fall grands them a farewell kiss in the orchid-fields because their gardens will gleam everlasting ...

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 26, 2025

... and then she became older and left her friend in admiration studded with bitter tears sickening falls the colour taste for taste drowning in the nectar of clouds which pass the light blind and bleeding as the summer ever walks through winter's woods ... those tales ... stay far from me I lie to myself ... and still I wish I woke up again in the shining of help freedom and immortality I opened my hands and call for me ... but any beauty has its thorns in the empty pictures of your life surrounded by radiance in the dust of every little hope no one can see what happens in the end and you didn't want to see dry tears ...

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 26, 2025