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Between an abstract contradiction I find myself,
trying to visualize the trace that my steps left yore
But the effect of my percept only simulate shades

Unreachable garden that evokes my inner madness.
Invisibillity and imperfection will be the only things that will lead into your lap...
And how valids will be my reasonings to you if inside of me there's only hate?
If I am only able to see through the mist!

Since I live and die in a horrible state of spiritual catharsis

Nor the deepest of laughters can corrode me

Abandon the hunt for the fragancy in this scenery where the air just moves dead petals where the crows flutter through the infected air,
where only is breathed essence of carcoma.

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