There is a place on the corner of my left hand where I rest my time
so I can hear me thinking.
There is an uneven universe under that turquoise skin that I silently remove night by night against my death system.
The turning point of my secret routine asks for ruin to detach.
I am a despot on my own.It will be achieved.
I don´t fight for clarity,I daze darkness as my mind is in love with my aching mistery.
So as the moon peeping the night.
No future for suicide,lifé is killing me.
And I don´t remember why I was here for,when I saw the dark light of my birth.
This is only to let you know.
The text is a deserter when it comes to me,a terrifying fraud.
I am a mistake when I am a word,altough I dont lie with words.
I am a sombre message but I work with facts.
On the way to my closest me.
2 Comments:
Despair and tears...
They seems to guide me in darkness.
My torments will never leave me.
But I know (like you do Rosedew) my destiny I master falsely.
Tell me that your consciousness slouly fades, just like mine, to a fucking world of no return.
We are not forever, but eternal are our words - even if they are a mistake with your figure - with my figure...
I´m sure that my words as yours are a mistake with the figure we are.That´s quite obvious we are more than letters,even eternal ones, our destiny can proove it easily.My consciousness is lacking between several universes,the underneath is a mind threat.I think I was never to be really here as my spirit is a shadow,in someone´s heart,I hope.
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