Breaking the pattern.

So much in caress in backtime,

Bright thoughts in backtime,

Everything is possible,

Keep maintaining the possible,

Passed before down to knee,

Low balance impossible to rise,

Many spikes to absorb,

To become the possible.

Breaking spikes to become all down to rise,

Breaking parts breaking souls breaking thoughts that will never change.

Who am i to become,

Low passing by the torture,

For live to life,

That meat become remains,

So i am your meat.

I am who i am,

The meat sudden perrish,

Dont lie the mentioned,

The souls nothing to find; myself,

I want to be the purge.

Thats beating in my mind,

I am bleeding out from the pain,

Nothing to save,

Nothing one can be true,

All begone.

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Only In Fantasy

 Only in fantasy.

Gazing up at the ceiling after waking from a dream, I ponder whether I’ll survive this life. I’m still fighting for it but countless boundaries keep repeating. I’m constantly observing history unfold.

Perhaps I’m just a dreamer, losing myself in my own world. That’s what troubles me. Sometimes I wonder and sometimes I feel nothing. No more lonely nights. Don’t forget me even when the lights go out.

I’ve travelled many miles to live just as my dreams have. But when those miles end everything I live in becomes fantasy – a dream watching people’s lives not their dreams, just a smooth distant journey.

There’s no pain in fantasy but there’s a lot of pain in waking world. Please help me but only help myself. Keep repeating the same things. Please keep me in fantasy.