Whisper the depths of the night— as angelic wrath burns away at my soul, consuming me in a tempest of alienation, a spectre unseen; - out of sight; I've lost my mind to my sanity that slips through my fingers. Where, I ponder, if the appearance of a grotesque smile will find its place in this so to claim, “beautiful world?” I remain oblivious to the value of my treasures; until the very essence of what I cherished fades into oblivion.
Direct my heart toward the doorway; what purpose lies in this revelation — exposed to the harsh truth of humanity's rawness, akin to the crude oil extracted to nourish our existence, fuelling this artificial journey we call life.
The intellect of this age is only but artificial; what is cherished in these times is only but superficial, fracturing the essence of love we ought to share. For what is called to be love divided among us, swiftly reveals the stark truth that all are not treated equal. Casting shadows on the bonds that should unite us.