... and yet, in the other corner of the darkness ...
On the brinck of insanity!
Desperatelly
My mind resarches
On what path
I do not know to go?
Silence and peace
My soul yearns,
But the whirling echo
Draws me to war.
With foggy eyes,
With trembling hands,
Desperate I run
Towards an uncertain future.
Thousands of thoughts
Like a flash pass
Through the icey mind
And vacuum encounter.
A morbid silence
My body surrounds;
Battlefield that lays ahead
Springs in front of me.
Fear and anxiety
Continuously constrain me,
Despair takes over
On my torn face.
A voice continues to cry
Stirring my inside,
From a sleepy sleep
Feelings haunt me.
... I'm still looking for that sweeat buzz, those fragrances lips that incessantly call my name through the nightly air. Who are you? Where are you? Why can I not see you? Why dose the cold veil of the night separates our burning souls? And still, I hear your voice, clear as morning dew, which sit on the fragile threads that weave from the cold and endless earth to sun light, empty blue sky. Why are you troubleing my nothingness, my forever numb sleep? Why I lost consciousness when I get whispered in the ears? Who are you, faceless angel?
Seduced by a fantasy, from his place in heaven the demon broke his ties, conquering the land, restless searching for the ghost that killd his lull. Up and down, north to south we strolled, his eyes shone in the distance, watching the murmur that his hearing has seduced ... A day has past, then three more, continually searching, hoping that after every corner, that angel with no face that charmed his heart by simple whispers of amour, will appear ... with open arms, waiting for a fled demon, what of the night fairy, claws has tored to follow up the call that his spirit has knelt. But in vein was his look out, because there was not even one angel in his sight, only demons without face and name dressed in human skins. He now bitterly regret, that in his sleep he ever opened eyes and ears and went in search of ghostly whispers, faceless and disembodied, just sick fantasies, hiding ancient past wounds.
- Cursed be the hour when I thought I found escape in the face of a honey voice, that beneath the willow branches blubber lies in bloody tear moonlight ... My soul you have messed up ... if I owend one. Sigh ... I pity myself, in the shade of a towering tree, that rises over the cold dust that sheltered until yesterday my own embodiment. I thought I found escape from the ocean of regret, from that apocaliptic messenger sent by my father to cease my endless suffering ... but was not to be ... all lost and alone, swallowed by foams of darkness, drawn from damnation, plunged into the depths forever. Boom, boom, boom ... the disgusting bitch still beating, through the decades of my hate plow through life. I got tired of fantasies, sweet words hum, no longer support the illusion that my guilt weaves! I shall pay forever for contempt of what I brought ... Still ... it was so clear ... the illusion, my crazy night. I close my eyes to see her now ... her frail body stretched in a pool of blood, her chest seaching fresh air, her lips sweet curses idleing away last moments of pleasure. I was upset at first ... I did not know if it was real, 'cause mad always I was. I loved the blood and hatred more than the mother's breast. Death did not scared me because I was not meant to die, at least not at pagan hands. My homeland was the purgatory, my master was the sword ... and yet ... ther was something that excited me more. Red wine beneath the skin, boiling hot whenever my crimson eyes fell on it. Hiding from me, through clouds of dust, love whispers blowing in the wind. I whish I'd touch her even whit my toughts, but she always ran away. She was not shy, just for ever cursed her dark fate. Fell like going crazy, my power leaving me and my memory playing tricks on me! Were you real? ... or just a suicidal thought?