Untitled VIII

taste of this, the end of forever

this is some random page in the novel of our lives, and tell me, what line are you on? the one that speaks of sorrow or joy? that speaks of hatred or love? that speaks of a fetid foetal indifference? that speaks of a lovers compassion? are you living your life, or merely going through the vicious cycle?
will you ever know the truth of the blood you hide so deep that it is cold and black? will you ever understand the reality that is passing you by? have the angels silenced their trumpets, or are they simply in a quiet interlude?

tell me child, do you speak of love or of demons?