Erasing your existence with a gesture
Your love, your pain, your hate
Your thick pleasure flowing on crystal hands
On which everyone will pay a tear
Fingers touching the surface
Dragging thoughts into the widely closed window
Looking for identity
A simulacrum of life
A status representing you
Dreaming yourself
But the screen is cold
A factory of emotions
Screaming yourself
Silence of the soul
Where time gets wounded
By the burning blade of memory
Eternal flowing of time
Digital is your dream
Imprisoned in a coffin of deleted files
As synapses unfolding disorderly
Beyond the boundaries of thought
Dreaming yourself
But the screen is cold
A factory of emotions
Screaming yourself
Silence of the soul
Where time gets wounded
By the burning blade of memory
Screaming yourself
Silence of the soul
Shrouded in the mystery
Of an angry impulse
Dreaming in digital
Living in analog
Elevated thoughts
Sucked from the narrow outlet of perception