Here I am.
My hands became translucent and I desired my, annihilation. Limb by limb.
Ephemeral the life is, so limited...unlimited the non-existence is, so unlimited...
I realise that the original sin it's the human mind and its own existence and conscience. I was fed with guilt and fear, because...the human is the only animal who's born with blood in his hands; blood.
Our sin it's our own existence: poor the human! The human...
This mind of mine, jail or salvation of mine, depending on; depending on...
Cursed torture forged in demented subtleties: won't you leave me alone?
Even if I wouldn't exist anymore: would you leave me alone, mind/God?
Conscience of good and the evil, for the hermit holy man of Palestine as for the barbaric blood-drinker of Scandinavia. For the napoleonic soldier as for the supermodel on the catwalk...
You are the blind leper of India, the patriarch by the Red Sea, the anthropophagous man-beast of the Stone Age; you are the medieval antipope, the whore of the temple: you're human, you're them all...
But, if I just could melt myself in the purest emptiness...in the lack of conscience forever...
...It wouldn't be another cage?
Why are you so cruel?
