neuro

We are men in a shatterring world
No essence Remains intact
Among the multylayered words
Relativity of all the facts

Not a defect nor a Syndrome
Just a chaos disorganised
Where's the instance to living a life?
And directions to finding home?

Drawning in the informational flood.
Personality runs uniform.
The progression is washing in blood.
Of those who were doomed to be born.


Рецензии