dimanche 11 janvier 2009

Midnight's sharing

°*°*° White lights, would you say white lights? Little by little, they began to lose their blood. That's why they're white. A bloodish light in this street. Moon is behind, hidding, looking back at her sometimes. Her suffering is too painful. She doesn't dare to stare at it properly. What do you want to do with this? How do you want to think or sink.. (it depends of what you hear or the way you pronounce it). Bloodish lights' sounds. Shrill noises. Where are you? What is this street? Murders seem casual, memories are just... [Lire la suite]
Posté par Aletheia à 23:49 - - Commentaires [0] - Permalien [#]