corpse of the gone world
December272013
'Moonwalker'
It’s said that oniric images descend during full moon. Game of cold light, dance of sharp shadow trick senses. Life reappears in long forgotten rooms, warmth breaks frosty draft pouring through empty windows frames. Debris gathers into it’s splendid state, fireplaces shine, music fills the chambers. Ghosts in ceremonial dresses and unifroms grab your stiff hand and lure inside. It’s easy to believe apparitions. It’s easy to take a step forward and join them. 
That’s magic.

'Moonwalker'

It’s said that oniric images descend during full moon. Game of cold light, dance of sharp shadow trick senses. Life reappears in long forgotten rooms, warmth breaks frosty draft pouring through empty windows frames. Debris gathers into it’s splendid state, fireplaces shine, music fills the chambers. Ghosts in ceremonial dresses and unifroms grab your stiff hand and lure inside. It’s easy to believe apparitions. It’s easy to take a step forward and join them. 

That’s magic.

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