(                                              
•                          
)        


    (
                             •
                                               )



^^           ^^


we worship .... death

and feel free !


Free  !

( with our hollow words that

Sell the Lie

••••

the poet masters words

So as to master the

Art of Deception

and to regain his Pride

//

The day !

Staggering  toward the cliffs

Of Oblivion

shedding dreams of love

In order to embrace

The love of mere dreams

::::

You can't make love to a Poet

because

In essence

There's no one there

But a dying soul alive on Pride

//

( while the whole world dies all around us ! )

//

only I am real

//

This

( I am sure )

Everybody knows