The Faint Smell Of Suicide by Infliction (italy)

As Coward Meets Coward

by Infliction (italy)· from The Faint Smell Of Suicide

useless words are the weapons of your convinction molesting infiltrating every perception disciples of a world called insolence memories corrode my soul though I meet you again I'm alone with a neverending wrong feel so much pain and endless amazement nothing is real as the uncertainty I feel thirsted I drink the poisoned rain my sentence . . . after a life in perennial cowardice thousands of painful dreaming elements like symbols of post-humanity collapsing like houses of cards fall into a strange, unusual chasm I hear your voice, your suffering while shattered mirrors reflect my damnation the distorted vision of denied purification as coward meets coward as coward meets me . . .