4:53
As the sounds of prayer rhythm echoed in the background I laid in bed drifting along with the flow A flow that aims in gushing the sinful thoughts out of my mind and enforcing the pleasant angelic harmony throughout my long dead corpse.. What if that aim is mislead? And I get even more attached to my bed, clutching and clinging to the psychotic thoughts in my head My head? It is an abyss of pure melancholy that stretches beyond the laws of nature Or beyond the laws of torture It is as influential as the screams of the bearded man in that shed, or the music he’s making balancing his sins and virtues. I never truly understood the meaning behind those words Are they supposed to affect me the same way as these sores? I’m not feeling enlightened, if nothing, at all. Instead I chose a different getaway to crawl, where the walls aren’t so high or fancy or sprawl, and the rhythms are dangerous facilities that have no control, leading me to a maze of no escape where the pathways include 7 souls and a crazy ape; fighting to free my soul.
