Some things we plan, we sit and we invent and we plot and cook up;
others are works of inspiration, of poetry;
and it was this genius hand that pushed me up the hotel stairs to say my last goodbye
to a hair as white as snow and of pale blue eyes
closing my eyes and actually praying; not to God above but to you, saying:
I'll love you till the end of the world..
(images of favourite angels, words from Nick Cave, Till the end of the world
just for the unspoken prayers of these days)
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