Asta faceam eu la 15 ani, scriam poezii, desenam ca un aparat bagat in priza, toceam creioane, terminam markere, ma bucuram de proaspata a 9a si de noii colegi care ma credeau baiat si citeam ca cineva scapat de la nebuni. Viata mea si mai ales, existenta mea nu erau lipite de iesiri in oras, tigari, bautura, sau alte chestii care acum, ori sunt prea banale, ori prea la lehamite unora. Nu stiam ce sunt sentimentele pentru altcineva atunci, doar pentru familia mea si Akasha, atat. Si culmea, ma simteam bine.
Nu fac aluzie la cineva, nu am de gand.. I'm just saying .. bine e sa fii copil !!
Knight of Tears
The king of the wise
locked his heart away,
in pain of tears and sorrow
and cold nights in vein.
The queen of the men,
drown out in the sea,
driven insane by the wind,
forgotten in time by me.
Forsaken is thy heart today,
cold and icy are your eyes,
you try to forget, my king, today
is the day of your die.
Mischief, hatred, lust and pain,
you seem to keen them all,
but loving thy soul, hard of them,
forgotten have you, thy sold?
For now, my queen is dead,
my kin and belief are crossed,
among thy tears, my father,
I shall lay, between your swords.
You killed her, my king,
have you forgotten, I'm yours to bare?
My mother, the honest of the saints,
you've just forgotten her away.
Sword will settle her memory,
horses will dig her sigh,
my tears will be her wedding bed
and your love the shrine.
The king of the wise,
spoke ill of his thoughts in sight,
oblivion is the color's middle name,
the fortune of truth is her kind.
Oblivion, my king, in dust and memories,
in snow and insanity, we'll ride toghether,
left out have you, i'm your kind, remember?
The queen awaits your dirty throne.
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hop si tu!