Meine Kunst — auf dein’n Nacken wie Henkeraxt.

We are
enslaved by something
that looks back like freedom.

Some lovers
become infantile songs
with no refrains on the whole.

Sometimes I hear
their phantom children
crying for their own abortion.

It scares me. I often shiver. Say whaaaaat?!

Augenscheinlich
Aquarius — und stolz drauf, ja-ja.

I win every dilemma. Alhamdulillah.

„In a thousand years Gandahar was destroyed;
a thousand years ago Gandahar will be saved“

„Они ушли, они ушли
в иные, вечные пространства
и за пределами земли
приобретают постоянство
Они находят свой покой,
ютясь в зобу у райской птицы
И всё же с болью и тоской
я вспоминаю эти лица“

„Lost sense of belonging, beliefs breached by knowing
Knot lodged in throat, couldn't cope with this moment
Phrase falls like omen, violence condoned
Prone to rip the same flesh you’re holding
Doldrums of life seem redundant, yet tend to sow seeds of conundrum
In adverse abundance
Some lack substance to verbalize existence,
some slit wrists — well, good riddance
Indifferent to men, who act children in face of adversity
Death's the one certainty
So called eternity
fed intravenously as relief from misery
manufactured by men, who attempt to play deity
What you see in me?
Seething reality, bathed in brutality,
the one to prove your facts to be fallacies
As my lungs expand, so do galaxies
Gained experience through tragedy
Transcend average travesty to speak an ancient wisdom
Hidden content burnt at stake by religion
I don't give a fuck what you're feelin'
Toss frail frames off of buildings
Content to play villain“

and keep youtube.com/watch

(Lak) shuuuuu! Diggie. Telegram: impredawn