Oh star of the sea, how may I, pray tell, come to understand you?
The name is neither Polly nor Began or Beginning, it is the end, the insufferable end, the desired terror the great fear, it comes it goes, yet without start or finish it exists in a favorable solemnity of trueness. It resides without and within, with others and with you, it shows and hides, and it wishes many things while it accompanies nothing. It is beauty and hideous strength that does not have any power but is willed because time cannot stop running over the dying and living earth. Though this is not about time even if time is about this, it is about Polly, beautiful timeless Polly, but her name is not Polly, like it was said before she does not really have a name, still we will call her Polly.
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
My Book
РомантикаPolly is life and death, mortality and immortality, flesh and spirit, furious hatred and hideous love. She can make all the sense and none at all and yet she finds herself not knowing and knowing everything. Things unfold before her and fold behind...
