The fears I gain in dreams
Are the portrait of a dim bliss
Ornamented with melancholic streams
Scent of dust and grim masks

My heartbeat pumps thorns
Creates spasms under sweated sheets
Until it strikes my skin
To a blurred aurora in the awakening

A silence dressed in death
Contrasting the rays of a benign Sun
That smoothes in depth
The sins of my illusionary crimes

The sink doesn't wash my frigid eyes
Nor mourning kisses on pedestrian ways
Waiting thirsty for my acquaintance
Of banal context and distant glances

These thoughts of self-damnation
Are suddenly drifted by a blink of the skies
Brewing a familiar and sinister essence
The window conceals a shimmering light

A colossal morning of the unkind
Radiating stories that I can sense
Of dark aeons shaping mankind
With my nightmares, now made of flesh

They dessicate the liberty of Incubus
To create demons of chaos and lust
That succumb the wisdom of the elders
Into a gradual emptiness of disorder

These shades with mazarine faces
Corroded the world but not me
As I'm the core from which they breathe
The reason of their existence

They're a reflection of my darknened heart
That soon evolved my being as a virus
And spread outside my mind as a plague
Making the nightmares overwhelmingly real

And eternally in this nothingness
I wait, with a pain I can't unravel
Observing fragments of myself
Left to wander unsettled

Roaming time and its absence
They're holders of gloom and despair
Randomly merging in synchrony
They glitter blackness, the loss

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