In those woods, I still remember the odours
The moistened bed where I chose to sleep
Surrounded by my own crimson liquor of
existence,
I started to to fade in history
At that moment,
Only the sound of pulsations through my arms consolidated my
seclusion
Anesthetized by fury and desolation,
I inflicted myself capital retribution
As the leaves were coloured with my
constitution
Grief and lamentations suited me with astonishing cold
As the dark sky vanished before my eyes,
Fragments of
consciousness could only illustrate parcels of this affair
I sadly can't restore every event in tits respective time:
Agitated
voices, strident sirens and blistering pain in both arms
