събота, 21 май 2011 г.

Farin Urlaub "Augenblick"

Grey. The world was fucking grey that day. As if to make it all feel so much more unrealistic.
The sky didn't fit that day. And yet I remember it was grey.

We'd gone with Her to the beach, to get the towels. It wasn't a beach day - everything seemed to be too grey.
And then we saw the pier in the distance.
And hand in hand we walked to the pier and to the end of the pier.
One could feel the salty spray of the waves...
The smell of sea and rain...
The noise of  the forces of nature...
Drowning everything away.
The rest of the world fades...

*THUMP*

A hug.

*THUMP*

Her hair flying in the cool breeze

*THUMP*

A kiss.

*THUMP*

The endless blue-greyish horizon in the distance.

*THUMP*

I remember...

*THUMP*

Every...

*THUMP*

Beat...

сряда, 11 май 2011 г.

Metisse "Nomah's Land"

There is a moon high above me.
Bigger and brighter than you could have ever seen it.
Stars.
A myriad of unknown, unseen, untouched constellations.
And the blackness of empty space.

And yet...

You can see it slowly fade away.
You can trace the line of the sky and see it slowly grow from black to purple and from purple...
To the deepest, brightest blue a sky can ever be.
And then you see the sun.
This enormous, bright, rejuvenating orb of pure, untouched, untainted light.

The sky is shining... Then you trace it to the clouds of mists... And then to those of thunderous rage.

Repent.

It is all I want to do.
And yet...
We are godless you and I.
We have ourself. We have our compass and we have our bag.

We want forgiveness. We need to be forgiven.
Yet the only ones we ask it of is our selves.
The only one that can forgive is me.

But, alas...
In the vastness of this forest that we call out world...
In all its shrines and ruins.
In all its caves and rivers.
Even in the tents of wandering tribes.

There is not a single mirror.









Yet.