About
(I'm from brazil)… I love my obscure and heathen world, where my thoughts funerary become vacant freely, and when I can breathe tranquillity, far from the insane Christian hypocrisy… The moon and Mrs. guides who me for the dismal cantos, the thorns are my pleasure, the blood my luxury. I am the sad specter in the shades and the black light that occults if it enters the openings of the dawn… Dream with the new renascent where I will be LORD, where I will be my proper God between the flames… Oh, with pleasure it would show to you Of the world and as sees it, But as it can speak of something, Of which he does not understand nothing absolutely? With pleasure would sing it you Of the love that to everything is interlaced, However only surplus the sad moan, Therefore it did not live deeply an only day. With pleasure would praise it you Of the freedom of the perpetual luck, But they had strained its proper chain Had lain it each step. The life of it well is protected E it of the chance, Suffering it is lain down in the blackout, Taking care of only of the sadness. Of all the melodies it had Chosen to be saddest, Therefore it in such a way equaled its being E the immense suffering, maltreated that it. A legend of monsters and fairies, Yes, of heathen and wirzard, Of determination, perhaps and of miracles E that one that sleeps, and that in the end it wakes up. Yes, everything this is written in the book, That " is called; Destine" , E, although it has times to have been poisoned, Its end, here, nobody knows. A book that if dresses in silence, In which, in its lines, I was born during the reading, So that the curious hands that turning pages They do not have to see what pages more than empty. ^^(;. wink ^^
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*hugs*
and im good, how are you?
And you are very welcome smile
Haha kisses right back to ya biggrin