I never thought it was possible, but now...here I am - sleeping inside this twisted sea creation every single night!

December 2010

The Song

18. december 2010 at 0:38 | Argonna |  Poetry - English

The one who grieves in silent tunes
Forgotten by all
Still burried lies in autumn leaves
Of the forest hall

How high he could rise into skies
Now deep in the clay
Just like this path in ancient woods
Where the others lay

"The sweetest trill on lips I hath
Last words of a tale
Thy ears loved it, yet you killed
The last nightingale..."