In this world where feelings are in confusion,
trials end up in failure, no one cares for nature.
Then I am hungry for retribution,
I saw only an unreachable illusion.

And now it is an extrusion of all, for a while,
a while that you can only count in years.
Years they lavished away, you can never get them back.

Maybe these words are hard and numb your faces
nevertheless an endless inspiration.
My desecration no longer exist
when I am gone to cut off some of my limbs and

...leave me alone with this disequilibrium,
do not imagine me, because after all I kill myself and die.

And when I have reached the other side
maybe we dance hand in hand.
A maelstrom of emotions for a dying wish.
Do you know what has come over you, and what is gone?