Couchant Soleil d'hiver

Une
sorte de
tristresse l'accompagne...






Apostillas:


Melancholy boy de nuevo me maravilla con su tino...

I must make her while the dove domains.
And feel the juice run as she flies.
Run my wings under her sighs.
As the flames of eternity rise.
To lick us with the first born lash of dawn.
Oh really my dear I can't see what we fear.
Standing here with ourselves in between us.


Currently listening: This Mortal Coil, It'll End in Tears