Through the pain and torture that somebody gave me, I am becoming aware of an uncertain existence. Whispers that ring out in my mind. I feel like that somebody is speaking to me.
An observer must be observed by an observer. Someone from the abyss is glaring at me. The Whispers never stops no matter how insane I am. Even if you try to escape from the abstract concept of living, you can never escape from it. Existing is escaping from reality.
I hate all things that you created. The impulse of destruction and the pain of creation.
As an inherently pure color become muddy, it turns dirtier than everything else. The things that form my existence melt away into things that no one conceive.
In the endless stream of existential elements, we mutually share things that we possessed. I desire for the bottomless abyss. Does the desire give birth to endless torture?
When I've forgotten my existence, when I've lost my consciousness, Everything must return to the abyss. All observers must be killed by the truth.
When I've forgotten my existence, when I've lost my consciousness, Everything must return to the abyss. I just hope that it comes true.
Kill the snake that swallows its tail or all those that exist won't be saved. Break this world completely before somebody muffles the screaming from our hearts.
Where we will drift and return to, there's no way that anything can exist. I'm desperate to believe in the ending bell and the whispers in my mind but it is a delusion.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
