A perpetual war between
frame and content feeds...

Night melts into tears,
day sums up the pain...

Choice was washing the guilt
or keeping mind shut...

The crisis,
a distinctive nothing...

I missed the heartbeats for a vessel of stars,
while death was always near...

Must we go beyond
the black holes of burned books...

Let me put back
the rhythm to the song...

A view from the cause,
alters the landscape in you...

While going my way, searching an eternal flame
I confront an extraordinary trauma...

If hate was becoming an absolute truth
and love was transcending lies...

The decline is steep and fast
Life groans...

An uneasy blood cascades
in the slender arteries...