Art Nouveau and the Arts & Crafts Movement

We live our deaths
To snuff out lives
With razor fangs
We need not knives

Sensing your breathing
to feel the heat of your passions
My dreams are confidential
but I know that I can rely on your discretion
We are twin soul
soulmate…

Invite to private viewing

I asked, “There is a strange inhuman sound?”
God said,’’Divine love is completely and absolutely unconditional.I gave my children unconditional love"

the change of season, it undermines her core
the torments of the damned
never ends
Clairvoyants weeping silently
The life had fallen silent
Despair blind her

the rise in inhumanity was just one symptom of the poor state of the world
were we telling us that these symptoms were just figment of our imagination?
man’s inhumanity to man

“I couldn’t resist the temptation to hold you.”
“Not as well as but i can understand your feeling its not easy to believe how an angel could love to human but it’s true. …

the immediate future is clear, but it’s hard to tell what lies beyond
is revolution is near around us?
the world still bears the scars of war
racism has been a scar on the humanity

Hopes for the missing humanity is fading
there is little hope that they will be found alive
we have given up hope of finding any more survivors
the future is not without hope

I’m walking here with nothing to hide
I’m feeling i m alike the clown that whom walking in the steps of my shadow
Empty endless shore, a thousand miles to go

We were on the point of giving up
what’s the point of all this violence and racism?
what’s the point of all this boundaries and barriers?
at this point in time we just have to wait

nobody knows where gone love true
Summer was fading into autumn
glimpses of loneliness
nothing more to do
she’s having hope in her eyes
she was waiting for winter to melt into spring

This is no tale of fancy, it is the story of your ancestors and their war to win freedom from the Centaurs. The end of the entire race of horse-men and my own death!

Leave me speechless,

Under crying flowers,

That only grows under my grave.

I am hurt, so burnt under no fire,

Sometimes I want to leave silently,

To a world without ears, no eyes

And no soul undernea…