From the series of Gothic Dreams

From the series of Gothic Dreams

Every Gothic Cathedral has its own historical mystery. One only is the word “secret” gives the person a magical effect. Thirst to learn history so great, but little are able to find the truth among the ancient rubble.

One of the most interesting architectural styles in the history of Gothic I think. Oh, I don’t know what took possession of my soul: the pursuit of the spiritual world of the past or the genuine admiration and astonishment the works of the Greatest of Mortals!

My eyes etched the outlines, and now I don’t know how not to contemplate…

One amazing building in Paris has forced me to step out of reality, dive into your inner world and get lost in it until a ruthless fatigue my brain to think about anything. As I stand at the very beginning, but great Story, great one Stage, and I keep walking, the gait of a man who suddenly and suddenly learned SOMETHING!

Gothic dreams (At the foot of the Notre-Dame Cathedral…)

Magnetism – my style penetration

This sense of the unknown,

It interests a creature

Inconceivable these buildings,

Can’t believe that here was a man,

But, last slave of the universe,-

In the name of them now I do Age.

Strange period, t As single, complex,

Foot still on the Ladder slips,

How can be that the path will show false,

But it’s too late! Already has a magnet.

And he pushed me with the “Cathedral of Death”,

To the foot of faith through the years have failed.

There was a funeral service, praising life,

The chimeras and erecting statues in the Church.

Bell suppressed the greatness,

Paris bound their tongues forever.

And the sound, and the sound is taken away, trampled on,

Under the destructive power of anger.

Sits dust veil in icons,

Darken the face of the proud chapels,

Forgotten faith, overthrown all those thrones

On the stained glass Windows of the cluster of naked bodies.

From the ceiling to the pillars breaking,

Only air picks, vey old.

And, maybe better. but, like,

Dry paint look gave another.

Aspire tower in the sky, extended,

Here my eye, thoughtfully silent.

And only in the soul, like a ray, not refracted,

The prayer of the body sounds at ease.

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