Truth o' mine

The truth loses all of it's reality in the exact moment that you stare at it with spleen eyes. (One second later, all truth can simply fade away like a mist).

Life o' mine

I write from beyond. This life's not, not anymore, a trouble for me. I can see the halo. The green spirits made of pure light and the purple hounds comin' from the deepest dungeons. I'm here and I'm not. I was there but I wasn't. My eyes are blizzard spheres of spleen and I'm talkin' insideout the back of your mind.

Words o' mine

Now, I've got the words of my necromancy. With them I'll unleash, from my soul's fifth hell, my monsters and demons. Prepare yourself, World. 'Cause you don't know - yet - the fire and the sulphur that I keep under my tongue or the aberrations that make themselves at home in my heart.

In fact,

Humanity is, in its ideological and theoretical role, an untouchable dream of an unreachable perfection that brings to light men race's unsatisfied behavior.

Prelude

The English language is, by excellency, my free will's homeland. And this free will of mine it's my deepest dungeon, my imprisonment.

Yesterday's morning

Life isn't reaction, not even close to perfection,
But sometimes, in the heat, inside
your eyes, I can barely see, all
the things that make you glide

Sliping mind
Whispering eye.

Talk to me.