In this old place life has fallen in silence. I'm trying to find pieces hidden between the wary and distorted, shreds of colours that remain as rotten and isolated as I remember them. Floating across my septic vision they break against walls of miserable mold were my pessimistic childish dissection of meaning breathes in the heavy space I contaminate with my presence.



Deceptive dichotomies align with the pleasure my self inflicted power has fueled my flesh.



Looking deeply forward, upon the waves of disarray brought by the real tyranny of consciousness' weakness I begin to recognize my pain. My inner death inside the teeth of darkness grinding my soul in corruptive vibrations.


© Marios G. T.