miércoles, 27 de abril de 2011

cruel disease

seeing voices ...
try to wake up ...
in noise ...
dark and battered roads ...
transferring delusions ...
through the glass ...
pricking my fingertips to the glass ...
leaving a shower of red blood ...


the sounds emitted light and its perverse moans,
throwing fire and burning ties
binding me to this condition by ordering the offender to undertake the task ...
every corner whispering sound ... Do you understand my sorrow? ...



stuck on drugs
I removed my world ...
to undergo
this reality...





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