Affliction, Endocrine... Vertigo
Mes yeux se ferment sur l'image de ce ciel gris monochrome Toile de fond à jamais souillée d'un sentiment d'inanité Les excrétions d'un quotidien vide où l'habitude produit l'aliénant Nous font entrevoir rien de plus que l'ordinaire renoncement Tes yeux s'ouvrent sur l'image de ce mortifère décors Rien ne courbe ton échine, moi je nous vois tous déjà mort Il émane de toi tant de certitudes, ce qui moi me tue te rend plus fort Dans l'opacité de ma servitude, mes plus rouges colères sont incolores Aucune couleur n'est assez ardente pour travestir l'abomination C'est à l'intérieur que tout se joue, là où rien n'apaise l'aversion Affrontons nos destins frigides d'un optimisme obsolète Nos yeux se referment à l'unisson sur ce même tableau de défaite
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 14, 2026
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