Žį byrjar žaš aftur.

Eftir langt hlé hef ég įkvešiš aš reyna aš blogga aftur.

Nokkuš hefur breyst sķšan ég ritaši sķšustu fęrslu hér inn,
ég įkvaš aš reyna fyrir mér ķ Noregi og žarafleišandi mun ég einnig nota bloggiš til aš lżsa lķfinu žašan.

En mér datt ķ hug aš byrja žetta aftur meš aš demba inn ljóši sem ég samdi fyrir rśmlega įri sķšan og var aš grafa upp.
Ég vona aš ykkur lķki lesningin.

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Lost at heart:

Lost in a citysquare where noone knows your shame,
hiding in a large crowd of faces with no name.
You throw your hands up to the sky and hope someone will see,
someone that will grab your arm and guide you where to be.

Sitting on a lonely bench and looking to the stars,
people come and talk to you but noone sees your scars.
You look towards the city lights and think where can she be,
tears start streaming down your cheek those tears noone will see.

Close to giving up your dreams you stand up from your seat,
lying to yourself that there is noone that you need.
But suddenly you realize that things are not the same,
you turn arround and there she stands prepared to take your name.


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