|
Invite the sadness, narrow rise. An effort that is not rewarded, in the end you feel abandoned. The door, something says that its conservation has been prolonged to avoid frightening contrast of oblivion, will close behind our steps. An escape in high, to climb looking for more space to find an abyss. Banas appearances are their faces retouched for a first fatal attraction, where stitches well measures hide reality. From the yesterday expected and surpassed today to pass, an unknown tomorrow. Dr. Abad |
|
|
225 |