Nothing more can be said.
You can not confuse,
Or compete,
The pure imagination.
And I know
That you know
Every truth is that of one creation.
All those feuds,
Dimensions,
And the liars,
They are more than you can fathom.
We must all
Let it free.
Let the exit become
Of a sickness...
An illness...
A common rape of the mind.
It is something that happens
To us all
Without questions...
Without comments...
If you sit,
And you stare,
Perhaps you will gain
An honest dedication.
But I know
that you know,
One mind can only begin
The sick soft preparations.
So tell me,
Do you see
All lives that are ending...?
If you do,
Then I say
You are stronger than ever before.
Back when I was...
Little...
Small like...
An exiting sickness...
A fantasy...






15 old applause
