so you're back.
look at us now. we're not the same shaking pack of bones and skin. you can be mad. you should scream, throw fit, cry burning tears, crumble. but I know you and I know better than to dance in the middle of an ongoing war. I've learn to face the fact the later has no living end. we've been right all along. what changed is I'm willing to win every battles. so shot me with your strongest bullet, aim it to the brain. I laugh. have I gone completely mad yet ?
come and see.
YOU ARE READING
voltairement
PoetryGod is dead, - said Nietzsche. In a land of desolation and ghosts You were an angel. Like every other creature, you've been wasted. Wicked little thing.
