Dementia, right now you embrace me, and the light of goodsense extinguish in me. This world that they called madness is infinite and grotesque, far away, in the reality, I can hear that someone crys for me. Sometimes I can see to the real thing through thick distortive glasses. Just the pain is the same in both worlds, and mournful toll of a far bell, shoots in my mind terrible sensa-i tions, I'm plunging on the gloomy labyrinth of dementia. 1 Far away, in the reality, I can hear that someone crys for me. Just the pain is the same in both worlds, I'm plunging on the gloomy labyrinth of dementia.