š‘Ŗš’Šš’•š’š š’˜š’Šš’•š’‰ š’˜š’‚š’š’š’” š’š’‡ š’˜š’‰š’Šš’•š’† š’Žš’‚š’“š’ƒš’š’†






    š‘Ŗš’Šš’•š’š š’˜š’Šš’•š’‰ š’˜š’‚š’š’š’” š’š’‡ š’˜š’‰š’Šš’•š’† š’Žš’‚š’“š’ƒš’š’† city stories
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abimopectore
abimopectore Listening to the harmony of silence
Autoplay OFF Ā  ā€¢ Ā  18 days ago
Where would you want to go? Maybe I would visit a city...

š‘Ŗš’Šš’•š’š š’˜š’Šš’•š’‰ š’˜š’‚š’š’š’” š’š’‡ š’˜š’‰š’Šš’•š’† š’Žš’‚š’“š’ƒš’š’†

š˜›š˜©š˜¦ š˜£š˜¦š˜“š˜µ š˜¤š˜°š˜®š˜§š˜°š˜³š˜µ š˜ š˜©š˜¢š˜·š˜¦ š˜¦š˜·š˜¦š˜³ š˜¤š˜¢š˜®š˜¦ š˜¶š˜± š˜øš˜Ŗš˜µš˜© š˜øš˜¢š˜“ š˜µš˜©š˜¢š˜µ š˜¦š˜·š˜¦š˜Æ š˜Ŗš˜§ š˜¦š˜·š˜¦š˜³š˜ŗš˜µš˜©š˜Ŗš˜Æš˜Ø š˜Ŗš˜Æ š˜­š˜Ŗš˜§š˜¦ š˜Øš˜°š˜¦š˜“ š˜øš˜³š˜°š˜Æš˜Ø, š˜ š˜¤š˜°š˜¶š˜­š˜„ š˜­š˜Ŗš˜·š˜¦ š˜Ŗš˜Æ š˜®š˜ŗ š˜®š˜Ŗš˜Æš˜„ - š˜µš˜©š˜¦ š˜øš˜°š˜³š˜­š˜„ š˜§š˜¶š˜­š˜­ š˜°š˜§ š˜®š˜¢š˜Øš˜Ŗš˜¤, š˜±š˜¢š˜“š˜“š˜Ŗš˜°š˜Æ š˜¢š˜Æš˜„ š˜±š˜°š˜¦š˜µš˜³š˜ŗ. - š’¶š’·š’¾š“‚ā„“š“…ā„Æš’øš“‰ā„“š“‡ā„Æ

Why my words answer to the night

Why my words answer to the night more than they listen to the sweet sound of light?

And I am forever a thief of my own calmness,

And I am forever a thief of my own calmness, stolen with desires and loudness

Eternity of ideas and I feel so restricted,

Eternity of ideas and I feel so restricted, reaching for more knowledge, for that I am convicted

A chaos,

A chaos, exhausting as trying to resist autumn wind,

A chaos, exhausting as trying to resist autumn wind, is my peace.

I sleep in the spirals of words and ideas,

I sleep in the spirals of words and ideas, where stars can speak and trees can sing.

Forever destined to be a dreamer,

Forever destined to be a dreamer, to understand but not to be understood

To daydream under open windows,

To daydream under open windows, writing to the moonlight

And yet, I have my home,

And yet, I have my home, somewhere in a city with walls of white marble...

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