it was the last call, the last chance for both of us.
It was the last road where to plant, where to harvest, where to dance, and where to expect a hand to hold. It was the last door widely open, the last clear sky. It was the last honest word, the last certain smile. It was the last true echo to your cry, the last resting place, the last strength to face this world. The last song, the last sunshine in your hair. It was the last breeze in you face, the last treasure to your soul, the last rain in your desert and the very last hope
And we both chose to walk away
Dicen que el polvo de cometa fue el precursor de la posibilidad de "vida" en la tierra...sus minúsculas partículas fueron las portadoras de agua fresca y cristalina y de alli surgió la vida...
Sunday, February 01, 2009
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