Like monuments, the collection of empty bottles increases,
All these shapes, all these sounds seem enraged.
I consume to celebrate your divorce from society.
Dozens of choices to make to get out of this.
No matter the door you open, I won't like what will wait behind it.
The wheels are in motion for a road further than skyline,
But we will reach it someday, your world is coming to an end.
After this, the rain will stop, the sea will be quiet again.
In a landscape filled with car salesmen and white collar criminals
Still waiting for something more exciting to happen.
An overdose of latest news to feel a bit more threatened.
Tongues need to taste flavors from other atmospheres.
All similar, all different, with a meaningless hope as lifeguide.
A combination of blood, tears and various living matters,
Struggling for being the new king, not dying in abandon.
Ignore tomorrow, spring will never come in this sequence of life.
An admission of failure, waste as the only heritage to leave.
Unpleasant smell of mutual incomprehension as remains.
It's time to stop turning a blind eye to the masquerade,
Just time to prepare the burial of a glorious and achieved past.
The curtain falls, no time to rest, a new target in sight.
No room for hypocrisy, regrets are destructive.
Don't let the ego asserts its needs for stroking.
With lack and frustation as gift, leave forever, no look back.
Lonely again, looking for an elixir of life in a trash bag
Living for the nostalgia of unknown places and unknown events
The color of despair strongly inked in millions of iris cells
A deep feeling of desolation creeps, stronger than the day before
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