Veteran of the psychic wars

"How came, how came this Inferno to be my own shadow? How this poisoned pit turned out to be my own mind?" 
(D. Noone)

We've been living in the flames, eating our brains each other where the tides of madness dance...and slide into Hell.

My rictus is pale and adust at once, my skin was now possessed by the demons and my stare is dead, can't you understand I'm young enough to look at, but far too old to see?

The stentorian winds roar furiously in my ears, but as my neural structure gets quickly destroyed my cerebrum is in coma, stolidly reflected in these hollow eyes: am I nothing..?


And you ask me why I'm weary, why I can't speak to you
you blame me for my silence
say it's time I changed and grew
but the war's still going on, dear
and there's no end that I know
and I can't say if we're ever

if we're ever
if we're ever
if we're ever...

I can't say if we're ever gonna to be free.


While I am seated on this edge, which has been harder than it should
while I am hanging from this fallen cross at the border of the abysm where nothing is possible.