quarta-feira, 28 de novembro de 2012

1

I met a hidden part of me,
Never to be shown or deified
I saw putridity within my eyes...

The shame of facing me through a mirror,
Of watching those hands of mine.

I did things that I despise,
Although I can't deplore

For they nullify each other,
I absent my consciouness...

Inner pain is so overwhelming
That I must compensate it with blood.

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