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"Here lies, a morbidus of certain nutrix kind, expired untimely, though of restless mind, she was, alas, a victim of an artist's life."
2 comments:
A thousand years of tears heaped upon her heart this child bequeathed a bitter legacy. Self inflicted torture pay the price of simply living.
Beat me, kick me, mistreat me, punish this cursed existence.
It's not your crime to pay with your soul. A piece to this beggar a portion to a thief.
Raise your eyes from the ground at which you stare, the play of light on rain soaked pavement missed, it's source obscured and indistinct.
So look into my eyes and see the beauty of your soul reflected back upon itself.
Let yourself be loved but never give your love away.
Hold fast and gather those pieces lost, the parts stolen. They are scattered here and there, long discarded by their captors.
I have found one for you already. Let me give it back and start you on your way.
I just got back from Mexico and there was this..I guess my humble picture post inspired something bigger than, well, me..:) THANK YOU for this wonderfull read, I will come back to it often. Thank you.
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