Mental Modern Новости

There are sounds that are hard to recognize,
Others whose initial hisses awaken memories,
sensations.

We are in between,
In a no man’s land,
In a memory without a master,
In a face without light.

We scratch at the secrets of our souls,
Hoping for redemption.

We carve, without any remorse,
Words of hate into our hearts,
To guide us, to dominate us,
Unaware of their effect on ourselves.

We flee without destination, without reason.
We find ourselves among slabs of ice,
Of which our minds become the prison.
• Utopian Soul -

We left them to take over,
to brake hopes,
to snatch any desire.

As distorted images on a screen,
They changed the balances of our lives.

They imposed false myths in our believes,
In our most intimate thoughts,
In the semantics of our meditations.

They chose the path of everyone,
As androids, they conducted us to the implosion,
Of souls, of rigid sentiments,
Of vitreous look.

They took the control of each decision,
Changing the order of priorities,
Changing the given meaning,
The significant and the significance.

They left us weak
In the bodies, in the spirits
On a slimy ground,
Sliding towards the loss of consciousness
Towards the end of our existences.

We pass away in our silent souls,
In a hibernation without return

- UTOPIAN SOUL -

We remain suspended, fluctuating
In these waters of unknown wellness
Flooded by a silence of emotions.
Emotions that make our loneliness
More deep, clear and awful.
As nails that dig died skins,
As eyes that bleed making skins acid
As hair that strangles the crowd's voices
Thus we,
Remain suspended
in this air rarefied by thoughts
to make us more conscious of the restless lack
of the Hope from us stolen.