The Delicate Brittleness of Her Stone Body, The Excessive Seductivity of the Dying Face.

Pain Isn´t Willing to Lead my Hand, to Stamp its Heastly Seal in the Alabaster Cheeks.

Pendulum of Night Crossed the Falling asleep, Candles Fizzle Under Drops of Sweat.

Bildhauerkunst-Pictures of Life, Art and Doom. Red Flames Make the Engravingsin the Melted Wax Grin.

On the Rainy Street Angels Were Blinded, when a Dagger came Hand in Hand with Death.

A Convulsion Deformed Her Smile, Changed the Almond Sight into two Wells of Suffering. Now I can Let my Chisel Take a Walk in the Gushing Blood, Slit Veins Wake up the Pain of the Marble.

I Kiss her Lips, They Twist with Scorn.

The Perfection of the Last Breath Beautifies her Even more than the Purple of the Life.

Bildhauerkunst - Dead Sculptures of a Dead Sculptor.

Vyšlo na albech