I’m not happy to see myself
in the wrong path of hysterical mad.
Walking in the middle of old universe
i got some stars need to be reversed.

Healed by dreams, a bitter chocolate, a toxic therapies, are not simply enough.
One night i saw myself waking up from sleep, scream so loud to the face of extreme holocaust.

the ghost of freedom trances to your eyes
telling the truth of what a poorly West
Text by texts you found in the sheet of bibliography
returning the search of murdered philosophy

A prison should be the right place for the weak of egos
whom the controls were cheaply written,
of not-being-forgotten
that:

A bitterness will never stop you to walk
even the glamours will seduce you to talk