Red Waters of Acheron

I can still feel
the morning sun
scratching beneath my veins
again

like a cold and ancient rite
praised in solitude

through the red water
that corrodes my thoughts
running deep into me
the sleepless night embrace me
covers my eyes a curtain over my words

slained and tormented by a cerebral earthquake
pursuing the metempsychosis
straight upwards liquescent limbos

nightmares and presences
scared by human desires
hungry of soul and life
looking for the quietness
I never knew

where’s my truth

I cannot speak my loneliness
I am master of decadence
in life
in hope
in time

burning soul
chained fear
my repulse still lives

time against time
ages against ages
the nightmare involves
into a deep
atavic
fear

from the neurotic recesses
I heard my repulse in living
again