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Hendrick Laursen
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Joined: March 12th, 2014, 6:00 am
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Wanderers Nachtlied
   October 6th, 2014, 8:00 am

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Why we do know not, what is the truth.

How much I regret that, very last day of you
That my philosophy of life, was then due to.
Yours eyes wide open, directed to Sun
A thin line of tears, of your eyes had run.
Orient was dying behind the mountains
Orange was the sky, bemoaning fountains.
Western sky bloody, horizons red
Eastern sky gloomy, like the death's bed.
The truth was naked, ahead of our sight
Just death didn't give you enough might.
Hence you didn't know the prime truth then.
This was why we do, not know the truth.

Last edited by Hendrick Laursen on October 6th, 2014, 8:04 am, edited 3 times in total.
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