I woke up with my flesh severely ripped, “assassin” hideously carved on my chest. A man enraged telling me I flamed illusion, his daughter being a victim of my morbid zest.
Fear and horror magnifies the memory to appear, violence being the storm that hurts ignorance. Formerly a child that conjured a friend in dreams, known now to be a mirror’s insane perdition.
My other demon ravaged experiences, the interpreting forms of ethereal significance. Framed by days of torture and misunderstanding where pity was grieving its weary end.
As a courageous image of a weakened self, I distorted reality not to accuse me. Desire being the luxury of a madman’s life, as torture reckoned a killing spree.
Dubious manoeuvres framed my own will, the long dreamt love maimed by fear. He… lodged a carrier as a mislead saviour of women, angelical scenes twisting reality to appear.
Reckoning the virtue of a friendly ignorance, my mind was torn amidst shadows and poverty. Despicable infections always stained what felt true, all ending as the blade fell on my chest… (A maniac’s righteous death!)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
