Testo di EndoLapsus

Within the boundless void of the I Through the filters of endless writings I slide, oppressively drifting Yet alone, I feel divided Incurable... This pulse... Is this the blood of a tyrant? Or maybe a prophet's? Is this vital poison the lymph of a worm? The fathomless crappy hole of consciousness, I design Like anal introspection, falling inwards A regression to existence's upheaval, I cut The slice of dereliction, tumbling backwards Lost? Within myself? This is an actor's debt to reality... Offering promises of heavens While hell's rotten tongues are still licking my mask Falling inside, in vain, seeking with fear The warm empty darkness of eternal slumber