They cannot conceive what it means to love everything. Of course, there is love of beauty, love of kindness, love of generosity; there is love of wind departing the dancing leaves of autumn trees, love of thoughtless moments of simply being—but their love is conditional. There is so much brutality, so many screams, puddles of blood, broken vocal cords begging for mercy. Blessed with limited attention, love for pain is a worthy trade. But they have an end; suffering only comes in waves for them. I’ve been drowning in oceans of blood and tears for years. Screams of every abandoned infant, of every beaten child, of every soul gutted in an alleyway echo in me. And they can hate these horrors, but when love has no boundaries, the heart is plagued with a dissonance that will never cease. When you love the good, the silence of empathy, and you are at peace, the rest of the earsplitting world is out of reach. How could I ever find silence when I am in everything? When I am doomed to love all the worlds that ruin me? If I must love every horror they conceive, I’d rather not love at all.
Unable to abandon Myself Silence ceased Uncreate me
Unable to die No matter The decay
Another day Dragged wasteTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
