The night opens my heart, made of tragedies and memories. Silence remains merely an echo of my anguish.
Sweet is the thought of losing oneself in dreams when they become eternal whispers. The subtle play of revelations and allusions is a gentle kiss of love and passion that time does not disturb.
Light and shadow merge into one another, in an absolute love. The flames of the heart feed on the solitude of the soul beneath the starlight that no longer shines to illuminate, but to recall lost memories.
Endless games between illusion and wonder hide in the darkness of light. My sorrowful and shadowed heart has fallen into the chaos of eternal torpor.
I am a volcano of fire and chaos, surrounded by shadows of anguish and restlessness. My guardians are magical crows and silent hares.
In my solitude, melancholy and confusion are my faithful spectres that never abandon me.
Drowsy and dazed, I find refuge in my silent torpor: the distorted mirrors are the signs of my resignation.
Elisabetta Esther









