Sweet Dead
At the end everyone will find the death.
Whether through our own will, or that of another ... does not matter.
Oblivion comes to all, sooner or later. No one escapes its magic.
We can deceive, mislead, but that does not do any good.
Because nothing can save us, if it comes to salvation.
Our lives, our useless life ... It has already written to us it is only the difficult task of crossing the road that has been traced.
Nothing.
pawns in a game all-powerful, as long as we live.
But you, beings of blood ... No.
You have the gift and the existence of eternal damnation.
Eternal as it has knowledge, and death.
You who are princes of darkness,
You who are dead and then reborn in the shape perfect
that you suck nectar red, red as despair, relentless
Wait an end that never will be granted ... And death
for you is only illusion ...
A magic touch marble and dark as it is your skin,
A moment eternal and ephemeral,
A snow white butterfly, innocent, pure,
lost in a world that does not deserve it ...
After all ... The vampires are not that.
Beings without guilt, but to an inexorable damnation ...
is why the Goddess of Death does not dare to touch them ....
There are few times you touched, with his mother's hand,
There are few times when I held in tight embrace that tastes like sugar and rest ...
- Is it true that you are immortal? - I ask, with my expression from naive girl barely sixteen. He is beside me, impossible to describe.
as you can not describe the beauty of a breath of air, the sweetness of a flood, the pleasant warmth of a blazing scarlet.
In comparison I feel a doll destroyed, defaced. The long scar that has ruined me forever is clearly visible on his left cheek.
now seems faded, but the pain behind that door is immense.
- Not exactly, White ... - I answered him, with his voice that smacks of honey and velvet.
A creature without a soul can not have a similar voice ...
White. Also do not understand why you insist on calling me that. Bianca.
continues to define a maiden without spot, clear and pure.
too clean and pure.
I would touch me, but you can not.
'm just a simple human frailty.
He dares not even be close to me, that's because between us there is a distance of two meters.
He knows that if his instinct might kill me, as a mere flesh to devour.
But I wish the same ... despite being unable to get it, at least let me dream.
A dream that never will come, I think with bitterness.
- White, I know. - He exclaimed, in response to my thoughts. I
puffy, irritated. - A little 'privacy? -
My sin smiles. - I can not, is stronger than me. I love your ideas and I know you too to know that I never reveals them, if not in this way. Am I right? - She looks at me with those blue sea, so charming and full of dark magic that no court lady could resist.
inflamed and remain silent. Then I pretend to cough and resume the conversation first started. - In what sense is "not exactly"? -
- In a unique way. - I said - I We only bother if no one else, you know? Immortal until fate does not make us come up against an enemy. But believe me when I tell you that eternal life is not fun. Not at all. A thousand times I'd rather be an ordinary mortal, and perhaps make the jester. - Ride of the funny idea, then keep looking.
seems like peering up at the bottom, digging into my lost soul, and ... I do not know.
I just know I love you, Dave Christian Lascaris. A pure love, discovered recently, and I would like to donate my heart on a silver platter, on top of an embroidered veil, and the color of blood.
But I can do nothing. I'm not allowed.
bow my head and sigh. In the courtyard
absolute silence. Only sometimes I hear the dogs barking, and then suddenly leap.
Without realizing it I begin to cry. Tear up tear. Furrow my face, bathe the wound of a time and slide down then fall on my surcoat of linen and cotton.
a sob escapes me, follows another ... and another, another, another, and another one ... I
Dave frowns and looks away. - White? -
can read my mind, but does not know how I feel ... If it were not dramatic, the comic would call ...
So silent, while he is unaware of my pain.
The children of the night are capable of loving.
love as only they can do, claiming their victims with grace and passion.
But is this really their love?
No. Because when they find it really change their lives ....
Life and death mingle in a dance of ice and fire, and nothing has been more important.
- Do not Call Me White! - Cry in despair. - I'm not pure, are not what you think I am! I do not understand! You can not! -
saying these words, so suddenly, it hurt. I know.
But unfortunately time is of the truth and I'm too afraid to face them.
prefer the lies, deception, deceit ... All this serves to create me a muffled world of my own, where dreams can be concrete.
- Get out! - Then hiss.
is strange that a chat between me and him end this way, but I have no other choices.
We had a good start in the morning, I can not deny it.
But after the sudden my ramblings, I feel heavy, as if life would crush fierce reproach and a forbidden love.
Dave gets up and shows itself in all its painful pride. - I do not understand why, Charlotte. But if that is what you want, what you will receive. Goodbye. - Says, but does not seem willing to leave. So
squeezes his fists and finally I can stop the tears. I look up and fixed seating. In comparison, a child, but it does not matter.
Dave, The Vampire, the sick man of England, Count ... must go. Forever.
If he were to stay, I would feel trapped in a prison that tastes bitter, and lonely ...
In a bubble of glass and yellow leaves, reminiscent of the past autumn.
In a coffin made of marble, heavy and white as it is your skin, my mortal damnation.
Dave does not speak, he rises and turns, her back to me.
Before he disappears, I think I hear another "farewell" whispered. The last goodbye.
- Stupid! - Cry then. I was not even asked for an explanation, accepted without reply!
But as criticism? My gaze was talking to himself ...
At that moment I died.
Losing your love is like losing one's life.
Nothing.
And you can tell when everything around you is shrouded in darkness, lacking the colors you love and see only tears and faces ruined by the war ... And from this feeling. Your
is among them.
torn by invisible scars, every hiccup is a new pain that will remind you that death is behind you.
awaits you. And you will.
Chained to the ground by wires and strings of suffering, crying uncontrollably.
I do not care what the other ladies told me, seeing me lying there in the yard. For some time I consider only a scullery maid, and if it were not for Dave I may well have beaten till she bled, day after day, to feel strong and powerful ... What can not be with men.
That amused themselves by torturing me, see my blood that inevitably flowed down the cheeks, like tears of agony and tragedy.
Queens of a fragmented world, rage and laugh at the suffering of others whenever they can. Sirens of Greek mythology, enchanting and deadly.
But I do not dare to approach, use words to hurt me.
Still I do not feel it. I do not want, I can not.
We all have wings, small or large does not matter.
What counts is knowing how to explain to freedom. Needless
have colorful wings, soft and smooth when you are unable to fly.
And when Judgement Day will have confirmation.
Although unable to stand up,
Despite my breath is muted, faint, just a whisper of a broken doll,
I get up with a fierce look that reveals all.
gaze of those who suffer. The look of someone who knows what to do to alleviate this suffering. A fast pace
I head out of the courtyard just behind the portico, the gate.
Free.
the building behind me, before me the forest.
I love the woods, even if everyone believes that the shelters of the devil and therefore no one has the courage to approach.
begin to run.
Life is not a race.
No one has enough time for anything.
Every day you think you live, but deep down you already know the truth.
This is not life. Not the real one.
So learn not to be in a hurry. Quiet, you win your fears.
triumphs on your dreams.
And listen to the song that you have composed. The song of a goddess.
Arrival in front of a cave.
like a large niche carved out of a big rock. Simple, but special.
More than once the 'I admired, reflecting on his mystical symbols.
Eventually I realized that I would serve for one thing. One.
And the day has arrived.
I want to die, I want to die there. Among
souls with blood, jesters and laughing spirits devoted to the Goddess.
What we want is to lose consciousness, throw myself into the arms of oblivion and forget, Dave ...
Yet we share the same sentence ... maybe even when you die, we will meet.
my fault. Because of you.
The principles are dancing the night. Their clothes are dark, but stand out in all their darkness that knows of light, splendor. Splendor after splendor.
garish masks covering their eyes and sensual ice as death, covering his eyes and soul. Since vampires are afraid of the revelation of his being. And always have
feared eternity.
With a pitch dark dancer, I get into the niche.
is cold, too cold. I would leave immediately, but force me to stay.
Slowly I close my eyes, and everything is dark.
lose my memory.
And as if by magic ... The cave changes size, to be just for me.
seems to become a crystal cell. And I'm in there.
Slowly ... very slowly ... I feel the forces come to me at least, and I fall.
But I can not, the location and size of the cage will not let me.
All of a sudden the smell of honey and milk penetrates my nostrils.
What is this?
do not know. Peace?
Yes, it must be so. Otherwise what else?
Death. Dolce death.
few days later the prison of glass, containing the body of a slender girl with auburn hair, here is a black rose and a white lily.
Two such contrasting colors, but even so terribly similar.
Chained together by a rope with thorns and delicate red petals.
And under the flowers, a note:
Whether through our own will, or that of another ... does not matter.
Oblivion comes to all, sooner or later. No one escapes its magic.
We can deceive, mislead, but that does not do any good.
Because nothing can save us, if it comes to salvation.
Our lives, our useless life ... It has already written to us it is only the difficult task of crossing the road that has been traced.
Nothing.
pawns in a game all-powerful, as long as we live.
But you, beings of blood ... No.
You have the gift and the existence of eternal damnation.
Eternal as it has knowledge, and death.
You who are princes of darkness,
You who are dead and then reborn in the shape perfect
that you suck nectar red, red as despair, relentless
Wait an end that never will be granted ... And death
for you is only illusion ...
A magic touch marble and dark as it is your skin,
A moment eternal and ephemeral,
A snow white butterfly, innocent, pure,
lost in a world that does not deserve it ...
After all ... The vampires are not that.
Beings without guilt, but to an inexorable damnation ...
is why the Goddess of Death does not dare to touch them ....
There are few times you touched, with his mother's hand,
There are few times when I held in tight embrace that tastes like sugar and rest ...
- Is it true that you are immortal? - I ask, with my expression from naive girl barely sixteen. He is beside me, impossible to describe.
as you can not describe the beauty of a breath of air, the sweetness of a flood, the pleasant warmth of a blazing scarlet.
In comparison I feel a doll destroyed, defaced. The long scar that has ruined me forever is clearly visible on his left cheek.
now seems faded, but the pain behind that door is immense.
- Not exactly, White ... - I answered him, with his voice that smacks of honey and velvet.
A creature without a soul can not have a similar voice ...
White. Also do not understand why you insist on calling me that. Bianca.
continues to define a maiden without spot, clear and pure.
too clean and pure.
I would touch me, but you can not.
'm just a simple human frailty.
He dares not even be close to me, that's because between us there is a distance of two meters.
He knows that if his instinct might kill me, as a mere flesh to devour.
But I wish the same ... despite being unable to get it, at least let me dream.
A dream that never will come, I think with bitterness.
- White, I know. - He exclaimed, in response to my thoughts. I
puffy, irritated. - A little 'privacy? -
My sin smiles. - I can not, is stronger than me. I love your ideas and I know you too to know that I never reveals them, if not in this way. Am I right? - She looks at me with those blue sea, so charming and full of dark magic that no court lady could resist.
inflamed and remain silent. Then I pretend to cough and resume the conversation first started. - In what sense is "not exactly"? -
- In a unique way. - I said - I We only bother if no one else, you know? Immortal until fate does not make us come up against an enemy. But believe me when I tell you that eternal life is not fun. Not at all. A thousand times I'd rather be an ordinary mortal, and perhaps make the jester. - Ride of the funny idea, then keep looking.
seems like peering up at the bottom, digging into my lost soul, and ... I do not know.
I just know I love you, Dave Christian Lascaris. A pure love, discovered recently, and I would like to donate my heart on a silver platter, on top of an embroidered veil, and the color of blood.
But I can do nothing. I'm not allowed.
bow my head and sigh. In the courtyard
absolute silence. Only sometimes I hear the dogs barking, and then suddenly leap.
Without realizing it I begin to cry. Tear up tear. Furrow my face, bathe the wound of a time and slide down then fall on my surcoat of linen and cotton.
a sob escapes me, follows another ... and another, another, another, and another one ... I
Dave frowns and looks away. - White? -
can read my mind, but does not know how I feel ... If it were not dramatic, the comic would call ...
So silent, while he is unaware of my pain.
The children of the night are capable of loving.
love as only they can do, claiming their victims with grace and passion.
But is this really their love?
No. Because when they find it really change their lives ....
Life and death mingle in a dance of ice and fire, and nothing has been more important.
- Do not Call Me White! - Cry in despair. - I'm not pure, are not what you think I am! I do not understand! You can not! -
saying these words, so suddenly, it hurt. I know.
But unfortunately time is of the truth and I'm too afraid to face them.
prefer the lies, deception, deceit ... All this serves to create me a muffled world of my own, where dreams can be concrete.
- Get out! - Then hiss.
is strange that a chat between me and him end this way, but I have no other choices.
We had a good start in the morning, I can not deny it.
But after the sudden my ramblings, I feel heavy, as if life would crush fierce reproach and a forbidden love.
Dave gets up and shows itself in all its painful pride. - I do not understand why, Charlotte. But if that is what you want, what you will receive. Goodbye. - Says, but does not seem willing to leave. So
squeezes his fists and finally I can stop the tears. I look up and fixed seating. In comparison, a child, but it does not matter.
Dave, The Vampire, the sick man of England, Count ... must go. Forever.
If he were to stay, I would feel trapped in a prison that tastes bitter, and lonely ...
In a bubble of glass and yellow leaves, reminiscent of the past autumn.
In a coffin made of marble, heavy and white as it is your skin, my mortal damnation.
Dave does not speak, he rises and turns, her back to me.
Before he disappears, I think I hear another "farewell" whispered. The last goodbye.
- Stupid! - Cry then. I was not even asked for an explanation, accepted without reply!
But as criticism? My gaze was talking to himself ...
At that moment I died.
Losing your love is like losing one's life.
Nothing.
And you can tell when everything around you is shrouded in darkness, lacking the colors you love and see only tears and faces ruined by the war ... And from this feeling. Your
is among them.
torn by invisible scars, every hiccup is a new pain that will remind you that death is behind you.
awaits you. And you will.
Chained to the ground by wires and strings of suffering, crying uncontrollably.
I do not care what the other ladies told me, seeing me lying there in the yard. For some time I consider only a scullery maid, and if it were not for Dave I may well have beaten till she bled, day after day, to feel strong and powerful ... What can not be with men.
That amused themselves by torturing me, see my blood that inevitably flowed down the cheeks, like tears of agony and tragedy.
Queens of a fragmented world, rage and laugh at the suffering of others whenever they can. Sirens of Greek mythology, enchanting and deadly.
But I do not dare to approach, use words to hurt me.
Still I do not feel it. I do not want, I can not.
We all have wings, small or large does not matter.
What counts is knowing how to explain to freedom. Needless
have colorful wings, soft and smooth when you are unable to fly.
And when Judgement Day will have confirmation.
Although unable to stand up,
Despite my breath is muted, faint, just a whisper of a broken doll,
I get up with a fierce look that reveals all.
gaze of those who suffer. The look of someone who knows what to do to alleviate this suffering. A fast pace
I head out of the courtyard just behind the portico, the gate.
Free.
the building behind me, before me the forest.
I love the woods, even if everyone believes that the shelters of the devil and therefore no one has the courage to approach.
begin to run.
Life is not a race.
No one has enough time for anything.
Every day you think you live, but deep down you already know the truth.
This is not life. Not the real one.
So learn not to be in a hurry. Quiet, you win your fears.
triumphs on your dreams.
And listen to the song that you have composed. The song of a goddess.
Arrival in front of a cave.
like a large niche carved out of a big rock. Simple, but special.
More than once the 'I admired, reflecting on his mystical symbols.
Eventually I realized that I would serve for one thing. One.
And the day has arrived.
I want to die, I want to die there. Among
souls with blood, jesters and laughing spirits devoted to the Goddess.
What we want is to lose consciousness, throw myself into the arms of oblivion and forget, Dave ...
Yet we share the same sentence ... maybe even when you die, we will meet.
my fault. Because of you.
The principles are dancing the night. Their clothes are dark, but stand out in all their darkness that knows of light, splendor. Splendor after splendor.
garish masks covering their eyes and sensual ice as death, covering his eyes and soul. Since vampires are afraid of the revelation of his being. And always have
feared eternity.
With a pitch dark dancer, I get into the niche.
is cold, too cold. I would leave immediately, but force me to stay.
Slowly I close my eyes, and everything is dark.
lose my memory.
And as if by magic ... The cave changes size, to be just for me.
seems to become a crystal cell. And I'm in there.
Slowly ... very slowly ... I feel the forces come to me at least, and I fall.
But I can not, the location and size of the cage will not let me.
All of a sudden the smell of honey and milk penetrates my nostrils.
What is this?
do not know. Peace?
Yes, it must be so. Otherwise what else?
Death. Dolce death.
***
few days later the prison of glass, containing the body of a slender girl with auburn hair, here is a black rose and a white lily.
Two such contrasting colors, but even so terribly similar.
Chained together by a rope with thorns and delicate red petals.
And under the flowers, a note:
The Moon and the Sun are incomparable
To you who are
true light.
Splendour of the ages,
Pure
and wonderful creature
've finally taken off
you expecting pain, but instead
You found resting in a bitter world.
But I have not had your explanation,
I at least wanted to know the reasons
your sudden hatred
me.
But maybe I think I know how ...
you loved me,
I could not.
A ddio, White.
To you who are
true light.
Splendour of the ages,
Pure
and wonderful creature
've finally taken off
you expecting pain, but instead
You found resting in a bitter world.
But I have not had your explanation,
I at least wanted to know the reasons
your sudden hatred
me.
But maybe I think I know how ...
you loved me,
I could not.
A ddio, White.
0 comments:
Post a Comment