Bedtime Story
The silhouettes of my fantasy,
Stirring around my mind,
Deception, conception
Fading away to the kindle of my light,
The memory still vaguely seen upon, father
The fantasy outlines the dream light I once drew but I cannot deliver it,
By holding my life in tangles of lines that should never had been crossed.
To preserve my infamous soul I stay in the process because it’s too late
to appall from the nightmare that have imprison me. My reality drips down to the floor,
The factor I put myself in that position is the reason for my disposition
What was my raison d'être?
My point of existence, is m my survival
I had retaliated the seduction and desire of the burning flame,
The distance between the narcotic and the arsonist is not too far from home,
I needed, I wanted my personal space, but I dare not go through life blinded by lies,
I still daydream in my room of flesh, seducing the demons that made my life a mess,
My domain of thought is never to enter with love but with pleasure and immense courtship.
Still animated, still timid by the convulsion, the immense pain I cried,
I am tormented by the vision of you,
Looking at the gentle moon shining through the mist and clouds,
It lights the floor but slowly fades away to the sun, assuming that the moon might
Owe it one later on tomorrow,
Persevering the light, key to my memory,
It is no longer an ordinary day,
However, I still lay through the mist and rot,
Never asking more of what I cannot conceive or feel.
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