This is a daylight descending into the miscarried rivers of sorrow. When even words seem to be pieces, matching a fathomless chasm of decadence at the loss of everything mundane the clearest substance whispers, grasps my wrists to hold them against the surfaces of a lethal trance.
Transition, a knowing kept always warm To open doors everyday To find the one that closes behind To find eternal darkness To leave the precipice of life
To open doors everyday With damaged tissues, moisted bandages To find fearless, flawless, faceless beauty over the bonds of human minds.
To comprehend, to subside, to dissolute, to dematerialise. From the highest peaks a nameless sacrifice is offered as a half-bled prey. To open and be devoured by the gates to the outside...