An Illogical Symphony

"Oh my,this is really awkward!Possibly.Maybe.Well,I have already spent like two months-or three actually- in this lovely country ,but  I really miss my home sometimes!But I really needed this,I couldn't really find myself otherwise!The cold weather?Not really my cup of tea.Eternal darkness??not ,really not!I miss the warm rays of the golden sun and the light blue sky!I missed my music,my hip-retrospective-gothic-I-don't-really-know-what lifestyle!Who's Scandinavian now?Definately not me.An illogical symphony."

Through the Looking Glass

I am not going away,
I am staying right where I am
I keep my feet on the ground,
I am glancing at you-there is no sound
We are struggling to keep our eyes wide open,
but still ,
we are unable to see
beyond the blurry faces of the past
Some people claim
that truth is cruel,it brings us nothing but pain
But they do not know,
what hurts the most
They lie
to me
to you
to themselves
Then,is the moment
you realise
that all this time you were gazing at a distorted image of reality
The truth was hiding underneath
Now ,you are holding my hands
You are looking at me
and I can see that you are well aware of
the only way to unveil the truth
Yes,
Truth was right before your eyes ,all this time
What you consider as Truth
is what I know as Bliss ...

The Age of an Unfulfiled Love

The beginning was the end
She terminated it all
Even though she knew he was all she could ever have
She felt protected by his side

But everything got stuck at this point

And I don't want to care about him anymore
I expect nothing more for me
We started it all over again
I just close my eyes and hold my breath

His eyes reflected his crying heart
His words were as sharp as two-edged sword
and as bitter as wormwood
She whispered "It's over now,for good"

She turned her face away
and never looked back

He was left wandering all over the place,
trying to hide his sorrowful face

She knew she would never be whole again
Her heart was shuttered into thousand pieces

It grieves me to ponder on the relationship
they never really had

Though they were meant for each other
and ,at that time,nothing else seemed to matter

But their misfortunate fate was written on stone,
so they both ended up alone...

I love that colour of his

I love that colour of his.It is a special one ,I can say.It makes me feel warm and cozy,
as if I were in a a little wooden hut in the Alpes ,enjoying a cup of hot chocolate,while
at the same time I feel like a medieval teenage princess who finally had a romantic moment with her one true love,secretely of course.
It is hard to find a name for that colour;it is more sweet than honey itself and more perplexing than hazel.I could describe it as a yellowish shade of brown,mixed with the melancholy of burnt ochra ,as well as the unveiled mystery of amber.And what makes that colour even more unique,is its 80's-like golden edge.
As a true colours-lover,I find it hard to resist to such an unusual and exquisit hue.Thus,
everytime I take one single glimpse of him,I find myself trapped in fairytale-alike delusions.
I enter an eternally sunny magical world,where I can smell the spicy fragrance of cinnamon ,
ginger and nutmeg combined with the ethereal scent of roses and lilies...
I love that colour of his.