Mythological Cold Towers

...Of Inexistency
To suffer in real dreams Setting up an insensatible ocular sensibility The bruises disperses on an obscure mantle Morbid figures close my frustration I exalt the suffering I carfy myself to the obscene fantasy Formed by the reticule immersed in blood Absorbs the lethargy which exceeds inside The transcedency of life turns complex Turned to the worshipness in the scrapping The dawn turns black in front of the history Perfect characters, afflicted convulse Indenominated creations sacrifice themselves Prophetised solemnity of the analogies Divine themselves by stagnant apathetic forms From Letras Mania