Photophobia For A Taste Of A Lightened Existence
My veins dropping on this lightened path
When my sight praticing this dazzle
The cruel image penetrating my yes
Feather dirty of blood
Dying angel … blaming my choose with their inexpressive
gazes
Isn’t true that paradise is light?
I reach the witheness with suicide
Tasting my blood o cherubins
And feeling the taste of a mortal existence…