The reason and its logic
moving my holy ground
if something can go wrong
it certainly will.
Do I need to justify all this?
I discover how the heart works
witnessing the worst scenarios.
I tell myself apart
illusioned by this fictitious life
Butterflies of unspoken beauty
but dreadful fading colours
seam to lay their pristine, peaceful and surreal unknowingly innocence
lodging themselves deep inside.
In the very membrane of all my insecurities I fall inside all abysses
black shadows crawling in my bones.
No butterflies, no angelic light,
just demons haunting my night.