Voices from the abyss
Voices from the abyss
I wake up in the morning sounding like a cosmic colossal catastrophe
About to unfold
I wake up every morning with a different...
Of time, of age and other fleeting things
Of time, of age and other fleeting things
Do you never tire
of the slow motion of a constant stroke or of the tick-tock
of Olympian detachment?
On...
Colour of hope
Colour of hope
I looked over my shoulder one day
over a vast vivacious field filled with people just like me
on a day that the sun...