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Ames de Marbre


The guardian angel descends from his obscure limbo, to eter-
nally rest on the cold body of beign. His melancholic face,
empty of sensations, watches over the dead, motionless, rock
of stone, on a parallel world. Angel of sadness invading your
tomb. It seems that a tear rolls down your cheeck. Your soul,
has maybe rejoined its immortality, thanks to him you'll dream
again and forever.
Schutzengel deiner seele, der heute wieder weggeht, um ewig
stille zu suchen.
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