Woorden:
Deviated Presence

You're standing alone on the hill that the master built, only watching the stars, damned, your soul is killed. To the stars you will go, beyond your

A pleasant warm dusk, when I returned from a time of fulfillment, not like the others, just empty, like awoken from a dream. Ripped away in agony, from

Arrival at the wrong place, incidental manipulations, reasonless undeliberate deeds, torn connections, unused opportunities. the ways can't be ungone

Walking through cold air the wind blows dead leaves along my way dead thoughts crawl my mind it all left me this winter day i roam through the wilderness

Leaving one world to find myself in another one even worse surreal places in mental disease self-inflicted torture eerie inner sphere misanthropic rage

There is a shadow floating over me growing to a vast crimson cloud meanings are blurred calm and harm in disorder my eyes blinded for what is real noone

The dreams have gone wake up and start again all over and over return to the sorrow of life bear the grief tormenting you everytime again start a new

mind is clear in empty space. You think you can be, but are not there. This world of repeating obscurities, back from my deviations time diverges to capture me in presence