I can't dream without crying
So I've locked you in a thought
I can see, I can read, I can listen
The whisper of your voice is hidden
I built a castle, a fortress
In the highest tower, you are the princess
When you play the piano, it becomes absolute
The whisper of your voice is mute
That sweet melody floating in the air
When you open your eyes, it becomes bitter
As sin is the path of the sinner
The whisper of your voice is not there
You wander in the corridor
you keep looking for a door
In this castle you become a ghost
The whisper of your voice is lost.
About the Creator
Tony Herlin
A dreamer who neither speaks nor writes English, a difficult but highly instructive exercise. (Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience caused).
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If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
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