Ceata Ingerilor Fumatori

cu aripi arse suntem noi,
ceata ingerilor fumatori.
cu vise multe si toate pierdute,
cu cenusa sub unghii si privirea in gol.

cu aripi grele suntem noi,
ceata ingerilor fumatori.
cu dorinte multe si toate uitate,
cu arsuri pe piele si spiritul in lanturi.

cu aripi negre suntem noi,
ceata ingerilor fumatori.
cu sperante multe si toate mute,
cu cicatrici pe fata si inima in pica.

suntem ceata ingerilor fumatori
si doar fum ramane in urma noastra;
cioburi si jaratec
si vise, sperante si dorinte,
toate mute si uitate.

Hide thy scars

Some scars we can hide. Some we cannot, no matter how hard we try. They can be seen in our eyes, in the way we walk, in the way our spirit seems to lay heavy onto our bodies. Some of them can be seen on our skin or in the way we respond to what happens to us in daily life.
The past makes us who we are. Not only our past...our ancestors past is within us. Not many feel bonded with their own history, they were born without wings...
The future is what we make it today...the future was decided that moment when you caved into one's smile, into the perfect moment that reaps your mind obsessively, in that second that you wish you would have kept still...in warm frozen time, so that you can forever gaze into those eyes that gently rape your soul.
It is not hard to believe, our hearts are truly meant to be broken time after time until old age or the quick twist of a long sharp blade.
Until next time...think of what you lost, and let just one tear cut open your soul while streaming down your face.