Words are spilling out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass. They slip away across the universe... Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind possessing and caressing me..
Words are spilling out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass. They slip away across the universe... Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind possessing and caressing me..
To be a master of metaphor is the greatest thing by far. It is the one thing that cannot be learnt from others, and it is also a sign of genius. — Aristotle, Poetics