Emerging from some kind of stillness, followed the source of the sound. A shape descended from all that defines me. And in the radiant absence of reason, i took the blame upon myself for a Shilling.
"Faces Reflected"
But
outside, what’s struggling for it’s own survival, faces
reflected in pools of mud. We
went lost in the vapid radiance of motivation. Always
on the brink of sanity. What
once meant something, passes quickly, Pushed
forwards by low-lying cloudmasses. Skylines
and movement in the search for direction. In
the search for a way out. A way back.
"Cold Spots"
We said nothing about
perspective. Just a slight
shift, an indefinable change in the perception of time. Where we used to
find nothing but cold spots of doubt, there was now the promise of a
world without limits. A movement toward
the circle. A dazzling
darkness full of opportunities.
"Entangled"
They
found us entangled, covered in a thin layer of Phosphor. Our
faces revealed nothing about the distance, carved into our memory. But
in our eyes, a promise was written. A promise, never to
bargain for our own dignity.
Inga kommentarer:
Skicka en kommentar