Life is like a piano... what you get out of it depends on how you play it.”
...Heavenly wind, blowing the leaves of time,
Send this feeling to the moon.
Gracefully, just like you
A sturdy flower, with colors so bright,
but before the leaves of words can reach
they vanish from their delicate stem.
If I cant become a butterfly, to fly your skyes.
I dont care if I become a demon,
that receives that pain, that sadness.
Heavenly wind, blowing the leaves of time,
this feeling has scattered.
Dreams are an instant, this heart will,
remain as a chrysalis, to the end of the times.
That misty moon tear.
Gratis bloggen bei