The endless corridors unfold. The fading footsteps of past agonies illuminate a path of thorns; saturated by the flowing blood of withering dreams.
Thus, the canopy of Sleep's domain enshrouds reason, and logic's lost neath doubt's brooding shadow the quintessential element that drives this vulgar land.
And with that, I reluctantly dive once again into the world of Nightmares.
There. There. Wherever wan dreams crawl to expire. There. There your so-called God constantly fades, losing omnipotence with every lustful bite as eating off the Tree is somewhat unavoidable unless no serpent lurks beneath your garden of thought but let us not blind ourselves with lies.
The distant shadows whispering obscenities maim the mind's eye, and innocence is lost as violently as gales blow out but thousands of votive candles; and since illusion disappears to give way to the gallery of horror, the infernal symphony of failure begins to sound its horrid tunes forevermore.
In the broken mirror of solitude a blind man steps forward, shaking hands with the rotting corpse of reason; an attempt to reclaim the tranquil silence that follows the murder of freedom.
Do not walk towards the pawns. This chessboard is solely for shadows and ashes. And damn the ones who permit hope to enter this land; they merely rip their failing eyes with their own wanton hands.
No, don't look at the grinning bearded woman, the living rotting corpse that's whispering a love song, the acidic worm that's crawling up your leg, the deformed child constantly crying.
The silent jester withers in a second. A statue, motionless, inert - a gaping mouth. The disappearing man who sometimes drowns in the silence of his name.
I awake and then I mourn for all the distant seas.
And yet another fear gnaws on man's desires, disguised as hope, nailed to another cross for all to see - yet who will learn?
To escape; to flee from this dismal land far away, to find myself drowning in another vice that of dreaming.
I demand I obsess and yet I am powerless. To escape: a need equivalent to breathing. To escape. To escape.
And as the anvil stands so dauntless, so still
before the thunders of the hammer,
thus I wish I stood myself
with arms outstretched and cries forgotten.
Surround me with chains and mirrors
that cannot reflect solitude.
But, once more I am defeated, and I awake beneath the Painting of Nails!
Thus wake up at last, o lover of delusion,
and taste the excrement of Gods;
and burn away the dreams of distant [vain]glory
in hope that one day you shall depart without questioning,
and be forgotten within an eye's blink.
Farewell, deteriorating shadow; in Pluto's lair, with bitter smiles we shall remember these and laugh. Farewell.
But lo, the earth is quaking and through the cracks the defecation of a most disgusting song. A prophecy fulfilled - a night's work complete. The ghoul shall feed itself no more; the Devil's mask shall soon be dropped and thus forgotten; since all will see the face of a child wearing simply a naked, honest smile.
I've broken all the spirals, dear sir,
and where dreams are always asleep
I've hidden all I said and thought of as a child
I know, it's time to close the curtains,
And, yes, the candles shall to darkness then withdraw;
but sir, I fear that you're forgetting -
the hat you're wearing is also wearing you.
But I remember, still, how coins always have another side,
and murders never happen without smiles.
And thus it ends, the final act, the actors bow
Miracles; a painting of miracles, talking talking back; never listening, never replying; always watching, always grinding your soul. Pits of desolation decorated with past trophies of malice.
I wandered around for aeons, alone through forests of past mistakes, and with my rugs I covered timidly the nakedness of ghosts in hope that one day someone will cover me in return. I took off barefooted through the snow-lands of guilt.
A chalice of wonders, covered by ashes. A sip for the worm, a sip for the leech, a sip for the madman. Another corpse, its fingers on a lone piano. Among the vast emptiness of being nothing would be more vulgar, more horrid than the creature that hates without reason, without remorse.
The theater's emptied, forgotten, bereft of all masks. The actors once more take a courteous bow only to forget to rise. Never mind the waving flag no matter how amusing. We shall wander through the empty seats as phantoms, since this play has no audience, bound to misery and desolation.
Still I shall break through the gates. *[Never! Never!]* Reap the heads off the pitiful jury. This court of malice needs a new judge. These chains I shall be rid of if I am to break free. I shall try once more to escape; flee far away. Break free from this cursed land, away from Nightmares realm.
Though I forget that this here mirror shall never release me; and again I find myself a victim of hope. The wind shall bury me in the ashes of past victims; left here to become one with Time; a passing idea, a mere thought, evanescent;
a wandering soul in a void full of maybes; until another takes my place.
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