Musica, - chiave d'argento che apri le fontane delle lacrime, ove lo spirito beve finchè la mente si smarrisce; soavissima tomba di mille timori, ove la loro madre, l'Inquietudine, simile a un fanciullo che dorma, giece sopita nei fiori... (P. B. Shelley)

13/12/07

...fear is only in our minds
but its taking over all the time...

...I can't hold on to me
wonder what's wrong with me...

...no ligh to lead the way...

...in this short life
there's no time to waste...

...far beneath my nightmares...

...can I rerally lose control?...

...If I can't feel, I'm not mine
I'm not rel...

...And I'm alone now...

...I can feel the night beginning
separate me from the living...


- ascoltando gli Evanescence -

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