For long endless millions of instants
I drank at the goblet of illusion
tilling tumours and follies
desperately wandering through the Dark Tunnels
of the Bone Box.
Then, submitting, I chose to drown in the ashes of my Dreams.

When Purity is raped
three days are not enough
to resurrect :
everywhere
leprosy spreads out,
the light of the eyes
is extinguished,

thunders now shatter
the eardrums,
the scream is :
" The Plague Be on You! "

The dust
I used to build
the impalpable reality
of my nights,
bring me back
along the paths
where I scattered
useless.

BELIEVE !
Can I trust you ?
No, please, don't !
Can I trust you ?
Forever, really, forever !
Oaths engraved in the water

OBEY!
As a child, or an idiot
who follows the laws
of the xxxx others ?
Quicksands have just one
unrelenting goal.
Bon voyage, Mon Amour

FIGHT!
That invisible Enemy nestled behind those
Gorgegeous, Fals, Sharp smiles...

In order to conquer the Future : and Destroy it !
I go back - once more - into the abyss of my nothing.
You know, the Dead have the virtue of looking like each other.

It seems like yesterday :
we were children
and playing at running
after each other ;
You would often lock me
in the dark cellar,
and I implored :
" Please, open ! "
I used to run trampling on
the little heads
- cut off -
spread ripe on the lawn.
We had no mother
so were taking turns
in being her.
You were visiting
my dreams
leaving to snow
through almost
closed fingers
glittering crystals
of Virginal Illusions.

Time seemed our brother
until the deadly night
twisted, I preserved you
Jealously, beside me,
gelid, adorned witd
the damned cloths
of the sudden
Silence...

While dreamful
I offered you
a smile,
in a suspended
flash
the spirit
was plucked away
by the Sacrilege
of Fatal Arms.

Forever !
Remember ?
Forever !
I kept the secret....

" Where is the bride? "
" Forsaken him! "
" Fleeing the deceived :
" Left him alone! "

TALK, TALK,
YOU FOOLS !
Forever I wanted
still, lifeless
and empty
the shadow
of you
to lie on
the brideal couch

where you laughed
astonished
minding the tales
bizarre and contorted
I told you everynight
prior to submitting
to the Empire of the Dark !

Mors et suae cohortis ludus:
Anathema, Anathema tibi !
Arcani vis et suae natura :
Anathema, anathema tibi !

They who know, do not speak!
They who talk, do not know !
Maledictus ! Maledictus !

We are just sketches of men
caught in a wicked vortex
where tertium nondatur
between being God
or being Damned.

But, after all,
isn't it true that
an inaudible suggestion,
an ineffable remorse,
a secret instinct
reveal the impurity
hidden in success,
the vulgarity of victory,
the filth nestling
in Fortune.
Pure purity,
Absolute Catharsis,
is in Misadventure,
in Tragedy,
in one's ineluctable
Check Mate.

And when the lights dim
and falls slowly the curtain,
I return to dance in a ring
with the skeleton man
and the bearded lady,
the bird-boy and
the laughing dwarf;
Among dragons
and Avenging Angels,
winged maidens
and herds of blind men
who bark with
open wide orbits
taking me at last
to the world where
uncertainty does not exist

In heaven. Or Underground.