deriliously dancing in the blinding light tonight you were so sure you took it all away with trembling white fingertips when you left in the dawn on the paths to a higher ground
shortly before the golden hour halfway on the metal steps I may had lost my mind losing faith into the liquid sun pouring down from bold blue lips halfway I remember I must have been broken down hard breathing, verrampfte muscles and your tall, razor-sharp sillouette cutting deep into burning eyeballs
noone told me how I got here nests of sparkling birds everywhere they are singing croaking your song barbwire halos around your wrists lavender bones around my neck such amazing grace when we parted at the crossroad the only second in our tiny boiling hot ocean of life only moment that reminds me of all the things I always wanted to let go
remember how you held the paw of your creature in the pale gloom you said you're all alone in the dawn at the edge of sleep - didn't you, didn't you saw the hairy ghost that faint shadow on your room's door when you told me you'd be breaking down again didn't you saw it in your dreams coming the arrival of the big blue brilliant bloom it is here, it is raising you'll recognice the truth, you will when you wake up in the foggy morning promise, you'll have to sneeze the last pieces of furr off your nose
ceremonials for our broken dreams the only halls we could ever build to give our hope a one-night home and a little bed to die in celebration of the shuttered faith golden praise, riding on your shoulders organ, pipe and rustling spines promise me, our music can’t die in the silver light of the moon
the Holy Trinity could have been serving us wine and flesh every day if we accepted the old rules to cut off limbs and heads your blank stare as I told you I rather cut their hearts out and few hours later somewhere a distant scream as I offered you my lungs fresh guts on silver forks you left without a word but I am sure you broke down afterwards
diamond skulls in a violet cloud celebrate, join the dance we burned our souls so often on the stack but somehow they won’t leave us ghosts of lost centuries how deep we ever would fall they’re faster, grapping our bodies two feet above the ground and pushing us over the edge as fast as we climbed up again the mountains made of paper bags and pulsing velvet skin
the moment I lost the ground what view over the ceremonials! our sky seemed to break lose without making any sound the last ray of sun was green and blue before I lost the glowing eyes in the clouds out of sight and fell fell turning into velvet and light
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Old smokebombs and dreams. Is this passion? One second it was. But then it turned into you. And you - is far, far - gone.
Listen to the new album of Florence and the Machine - "Ceremonials"
Wenn ich je einen Gruselfilm drehe, musst du mir helfen, du schaffst eine derart tolle, düstere, aber mit Ästhetik geladene Atmosphäre in deinen Bildern aufzubauen! Das liebe ich so an deinen Werken. Nicht nur immer tolle Ideen, sondern auch die Umsetzung zeigt, dass du wirklich begabt bist und weißt, was du tust! Danke wieder einmal für ein derart großartiges Bild!
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"YEAR, n. A period of three hundred and sixty-five disappointments."
Hab mir nochmal diene ganze Gallerie angesehen und ich finde das ist dein schönstes Bild. es gibt zwar aussagekräftigere und manche erzählen auch einfach mehr aber das ist dazu auch noch schön anzusehen! Ein Meisterwerk!
I'm in love with that cd, this photo is amazng. You are my greatest inspiration.
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"It is a blessing and a curse to be an artist: You see beauty in things ordinary people miss, but pain becomes even more painful. That pain will make the next beauty even more beautiful."
colors
image depth
smoke and light
I relaly enjoed it! Great concept with amazing execution!
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"We are too weird to live and too rare to die."
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diejenigen - die Phantasie so oft zitieren
fliegen mit fremden Flügeln bestimmt nie
j.w.waldeck
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TheFarthestShore.com
TheaterOfTheVampire.com
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Danke wieder einmal für ein derart großartiges Bild!
--
"YEAR, n. A period of three hundred and sixty-five disappointments."
Devil's Dictionary
es gibt zwar aussagekräftigere und manche erzählen auch einfach mehr aber das ist dazu auch noch schön anzusehen!
Ein Meisterwerk!
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[link]
wunderschön!
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[link]
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"It is a blessing and a curse to be an artist: You see beauty in things ordinary people miss, but pain becomes even more painful. That pain will make the next beauty even more beautiful."