Hours pass

Now: Hours passGoogle Translate.

A few hours later,
Carefully, I do not hear their steps;
Touch me gently with your finger
I’ll find a dream or die.

However, their flight can be anyway,
I continue to press my heart with tears.
These add-ons will bring me deep damage,
It’s been a good time for many years.

Was: The Passing of the Hours – Ella Higginson.

The hours steal by with still, unasking lips—
So lightly that I cannot hear their tread;
And softly touch me with their finger-tips
To find if I be dreaming, or be dead.

And yet however still their flight may be,
Their ceaseless going weights my heart with tears;
These touches will have wrought deep scars on me—
When the light hours have worn to heavy years.

Posted in Art

Reigning over the weather.



The End.

I think I’ll start this website at the end and one day we may get to the beginning. So if you read stuff from yesterday tomorrow don’t worry about it, just keep going. As we explored art throughout the years of this website, we found our own man made Artificial reality.



Lost in art.