Walking through life

Feeling trapped within morality he daydreams of a confession.

Walking through my life,

The patterns of colors, of changing colors,

And so I told her while sitting on a comfortable couch:

“Let the many demons of hell strike my body,

Let the demonic angels run through my veins,

Now that I am free from morality,

My mind has splattered a beautiful painting on eternity,

Even Lucifer hurries up to see,

While my soul wonders far untouched.”

Her dry lips separated one another,

If only I still remembered how to find the circumference,

She walked away with disgusting confusion.

 

 

 

Reviews

[cetrimide]

Intense, I liked the last two lines a lot.