Quicksand Symmetry

I find out life is sometimes

Cauterized by the words

It seems the end of our times

Of reacting to the wounds

Turn off the led

The light that gets you

Normalized to the mass

A gala performance

Everyone with its mask

Automata glad to ignore

There's a mind behind the glass

I am sad in my soul

As I paint a cold smile on my mouth

My thoughts are for the hollow hearts

I'm creeping

It's nine o' clock, I'm drunk

The best way to keep on

Disgusted by the price

I'll leave this world at all

As soon as I'll be out

I will take a breath

And walk in search of someone

The face I can see