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Sinfónica.

Analiza y sopesa.

Hechos y conclusiones han de ser complementarios. Y de la misma esencia, pues la adición entre divergencias es imperfecta para el matemático y desproporcionada para el artista.

Qué será del abismo sin caída

Aprieta el pulso y tira, la tendencia a un estado estático solo puede ser lírica y la poesía es aterradora, pues desentierra lo prohibido y rasga el grueso velo que oculta al ser del parecer.

La luz no es necesaria si es el alma la que percibe. 
El alma no existe si es la realidad la que la persigue.
Incluso en la cuerda floja la voluntad persiste.
Y la caída borra las definiciones del que todavía resiste.

Evasión y catarsis. Hedoné te llama al mismo tiempo que Némesis completa su ciclo a tu alrededor. La víbora envenenando su propia piel y cerrando el anillo que te condena, que me condena a errar de nuevo, a subir y a caer, a rozar Zion con la yema de los dedos justo antes de nacer de nuevo.

Qué será de la ambrosia sin suicida.

Analiza y concluye.


Balada triste y despiadada para piano y cuerda en mí menor.

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9 lives

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Carrion

The pain I inherited always comes in waves, contractions that mimic  those heroic aches of birth. You never know what might grow  on barren land, what hides beneath the surface of your manic slang. He will never be you, will never have your legs cold against my back at the darkest of times. Nothing feels good anymore, nothing feels real you know the things that I do when I'm in pain, come and take me or kill me just don't leave me, please stay. Did you just want my flesh? Nothing else? Such a crazy thought, never took you for one of those. Vulture, vulture on my wall who's the ripest and ready to fall?

Friday 13th

One day you’ll be old sitting on a porch  looking at life through cloudy eyes Yellow and grey, longing away towards that empty feeling that your gut portrays Screams of children playing and your victim by your side caressing you, loving you. And you’ll think of that year that spring, that ended abruptly with a crescent moon on the rise. Secrets you should’ve told, truths that hanged, this pain I’m feeling you’ll get it back. Ten times worse under the light of regret, remorse, going back and forth finally finding out what you really wanted is now and even before, forever lost.