Dumbly you come
to the brink of a precipice...

Life gives you a sudden shock,
with ugly scars of mutilated truth...

Loneliness of non-being and,
reality, fill up the vessel...

Forgetting the ultimate name
of clean truth...

A cyan globe
rolling in the black sky...

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

Beyond the self,
is the freedom, unchained dawn...

A perpetual war between
frame and content feeds...

Your truth always happened at wrong time
You were guilty of telling lies to death...

The spirit of hollow ideal
was not the thing...

The cult
catches you...

Beyond the thoughts,
nothing I mourned...