We are going to be together, from birth to death. The life cycle of faith, of hope, love and melancholy. Hands by hands, tied up, already fell down, we are going to rise up again, although we thought none was possible anymore, for us to become a presence. But we are here, just here. Someone picked us up, together, and emphasised our beauty by showing us to others. To others, and to the one who killed us, the one, which is omnipresent, the one able to be pregnant and to make you die whenever he wants. The one able To deliver lives for a better future, The one addicted to order death for enabling the melancholiac memories. The one who sings the little fantasy of our universal melody…. via http://500px.com/photo/89462337
