11 de jan de 2012

For 12 and now

Thin and icy breeze all around... I'm not the same. Years of sadness soaking my pale skin... My blurred eyes are drowned by tears... And I'm still waiting.

I'm shaking, I'm begging and I'm asking...
This eco, this... Empty.

Quiet.

... That mad stormy sea don't look so bad. But is so far...