I like stormy nights, I sit in the window to observe the slightest movement of the trees and the like, drop by drop, the sky baptizes the streets of my town ...
I like storms because they reflect a throng pain inside me now, because I can not erase it and it increases day by day ... Listening
nostalgic songs in the silence of my room, I lie in bed to mourn no tears, perhaps a pity ...
never understand ... although not believe me, I miss you ...
Tour
light beam so that it looks from the sea.
I looked back on track
unwittingly find. Pie
standing behind after the pulse was clearly
the dark, just opened,
became close.
A lighthouse still nothing would
guide, while not stop spinning light
is not really what matters
is 12 seconds of darkness.
to display from the high seas ...
of little use to the sailor
who can not wait.
