The pain of a waterfall is born poeta.Era be a communion of the poet frantic pain and suffering on the evening of moon madruga delighted cries and sings in the cascade of vida.Agora am a man, I'm a god in the morning, die in a quiet night at the foot a cascade flor.Sou a poet of any pain the pain of a waterfall is born poeta.Frágil and serene as the dew in his hand, white as the rot at night, as the pristine splendor of the pain cascade amor.de born poet blood in mortal power consumed by writing the magic hand of God, the universal center, and this pain died all dias.Era escriva's worth it, to mind the sage, the womb of the earth, the cry of a man of the night left, was the lust of the fornicator, the writing is deadly, was a poet of the fury total.Da pain of a waterfall is born poeta.Era umilha a man on the floor, it was a lost man without salvation, it was a death wish, write with blood the role that this pain was not a mortal desires mulher.Era then fell to his soul in perdition, was a master, a lord, a longing for passion, prayed and ate only write to remember that a poet who has to amar.Era a seed of evil in this nest heart was condor, troubadour, it was music of seduction, was a poet torn face in the crowd, there is no penalty or perdão.Pobre poet of my conviction that you seek this soul rot in stray , proud and fine as the fairy flax flower, you cry for this fragile poet amor.de pain of a waterfall is born a poeta.Da had been abandoned a seed is born of pain, hope comes to salvation, the poet died of heart sad. looking for a fine maiden white flower, but it was a whore its largest amor.Agora till I cry this sad tale of the heart, left this poet, you were my greatest passion.
