on the edge of the earth where the lonely rock meets the sea, in this maelström that keeps growing harder, my hopes and solicitude collide with melancholia and torment.
Étiquette : bretagne
the hourglass
night is brief, time is running out, long is the path to wisdom.
ephemeral scarf
fresh morning, slowly awaking from a deep sleep, her heap of dreams is waiting for a waft of wind.
thin shell
feeling so small in this world so big, i’m facing the silver deep rising all around me, will it consume me or carry me on ?
far from here
from time to time i find myself looking westward, thinking about what i have left behind, the sorrow of passion still stab my heart.
eerie land
strolling on the legendary paths, i perceive whispers from imaginary creatures, ancient symbols from a forgotten world.