A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret suffering, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and cries escape, they sound like beautiful music.
| Kierkegaard
Total Pageviews
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
today i woke up with emptiness in my heart
confusion in my brain
with fear sinking in my nerves
this is my life..
everyone I know, goes away in the end
I wish that I can hold eternity in the palm of my hands.....
No comments:
Post a Comment