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He is just a nightmare because it has always been there. He likes to walk slowly shuffle so I can pretend I did not realize how close you are to my neck. It is my shadow and my conviction, a shackle that holds me back the right foot so you can not run away from their mandates.
is bald, has a very white face and thin lips protruding fangs tear joyful hope. Likes to keep his hands in his long black coat covering his knee and laughs, laughs in a way that freezes me of terror until he was tired of coughing see bats. But despite so much hate, not that it's time to see him go.
load is like a monkey in my head that crushes me ideas and low only to repeat in his ear: "You can not. Neither warrior can not tell you succeed. Your mouth is not poetry. You just have to mourn. "Then I get up looking straight at the demon of thousand head with my sword and I think strong, fast, able to defeat him, but at that moment the master shooting lightning fingers clicking and I have no choice but to break up as the dead tree that nothing can save.
me out! they can not get myself out of this prison iron. I do not comment because the streets are my disability and my desires. I do not want to say that today I am a slave to my fear.
Bel.
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