I go on my way,
I do not listen to the
Words of delusion.
I am a fallen angel,
I only cross this grey world.
Delusion
28 Tuesday Apr 2015
Posted in Poésie
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Hortus Closus
%d
When a tree dances,
It moves along with the wind ;
A model for us.
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Reblogged this on The Page and commented:
Fallen angel…
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oh, so lovely!
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That what we are? Fallen angels? Des anges déchus? C’est bien possible…
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A chameleon knows
when he can be colorful
and when he should not.
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Very good
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