Luchtaine

Cities of masks. There was a city where, no one have a dress, no one have a mask... ...but it's lost... Losted here in our self, full of mirrors where we reflects our empty glance, cause we are strangers, foreign in our selfs, cause we are strangers, foreign in our souls. Day after day, we are loosin us, in seas of masks, but we don't know who we really are?! It's a conspiracy against yourself, you know you hatch it?! cause you're insane. It's like a carnival, without the laughs, only sad faces, but masquerade. Only appareance is what you wish, but you'll see in streets, and you feel at home... the master of mas

It rains it rains, the sky is raining all his pain. Screams the ground with a loud voice, screams the mother torn apart by the ruthless offspring. The buds blossomed in the warmth of Imbolcg burn today in the cold of Oestara. Butterflies and flowers, fragrant fields, are devastated by storms and lightning. It rains it rains, raining the first day of spring that is still winter.