Archiv für den Tag 7. Dezember 2017


As the night is descending

And I feel its gentle touch

Embrace me once more,

I want to run and fade into

The tender nothingness

Of the darkness, whispering

My poetry to the wind,

So I may lose my consistency

And fall apart,

To merge with everything

I have never known

And leave nothing

But a fluent memory,

A shadow

Of a wandering soul.


Nevertheless I remain

To face a new reddening

Of the horizon.

The only witness

Of my inner dematerialization,

The only ocean which

Absorbs me every night,

Is the black ink

That drops down

From my feather

Onto the fragile innocence

And fading pureness

Of white paper.

Sophie Aduial


Bildergebnis für tintenfass und feder wallpaper




Kunst trifft Poesie

Malerei ist Sprache für die Augen, Sprache ist Malerei für das Ohr.

the chronicles of An Overthinker



Human Rights, Literature and much more


Wortgeweb & Sinngespinn