Once I found myself alive, staring out in the open with a little hope. My questions once was enough. Now, the only thing I get from the never ending eternity is plane echolalia. Deaths cold hands holding mine through those lightless hours. Dawn opens as I gaze out over the growth of hell. I yawn. I'ts an anxious inferno with hunger in motion. I quake over its ruthlessness. Life is buildt up by nothing but grief. Sunless nights whom I feared before are now harmless. I belong in night. I'm a child of the moon. I lay among bloody bones in forgetful silence. I faint. Time after time I try to escape, yet in the end I always seem to return. The only way out appears to be a plane passing into another whatever. Strange roads are property by me and my meditative mind. Awake at night along with clear tide. I can't find no soft responds no more. Misfortune, misery and despair. The world and I. Where did it go wrong? Let's live together as strangers and die.
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