Reaching for the inner bright, the very essence-sun of my dreaming bliss Guided by a fear blinded outside all shades of the perfect black
A new level reached, where the absence of air lets me breathe I m inverted electrical impulses. A malfunctioning death-code incomplete All things before
Me the paragon of fear, an immobile skein of tangled nerves exposed Hastily clawing my way into the darkest of my inner scenes of torture I stay my
The scattered jigsaw of my redemption laid out before my eyes Each piece as amorphous as the other Each piece in its lack of shape a lie
Iridescent to the searhing eyes, I m all things vivid in a world of grey So easily spotted, so easily claimed in this domain where all is prey My thoughts
So imminently visible this cloaked innocent guilt Sentenced to a lifetime, a second of structured chaos Trampled by the ferocious, raging crowds of
The feeding frenzy of my starving soul, gnawing voraciously at the bones, the exo-skeletal patchwork protecting my own reflection within; The twin-and
A lie to maintain equilibrium, to hold me in this dead realm this last ever dream I m the thought that never crossed my mind disguised in the evident
My ignorance cast in the mold of all things absolute I sustain forever my gaze. A stare fixed on the distant oblivion Resting in the inverted state of
I float through physical thoughts. I stare down the abyss of organic dreams All bets off, I plunge - Only to find that self is shed
Vision will blind. Severance ties. Median am I. True are all lies
Non-physical smothering. Asphyxiation by oxygen hands Drowning in the endless sky. An ever-downward dive, only to surface the sewage of indecision, on
Mutiny of self. Insurrection games convincingly performed Incapacitated by physical thoughts acting out the will of tendon and bone Have the bridges
Tulkojums: Meshuggah. Catch Thirtythree.
