what urge me to do right?
the emptiness - the conciousness of living in
the void of the feral muting against the vacant - cold
void - the incensed endeavour to
rescing the fact of vacuty to be doomed
neverthless - my imagination
just symbols or repressed desires?
vision of adoration and death?
and the disillusion of living in
a world that has to be rescued
an age that is sainted to mental decline and
my incapability to struggle for liberation
my last minute should not be marked
by the realization that I never really lived