The smell, of wet soil, carries my mind to a distant place
To a dark moment of my existence
Lying in dust, while a stone is forming in the way
Hiding me from myself, burning my hands and clouding my vision
Overwhelmed by frustration and apathy, digging in the dirt
Through grief I wander, walking among emotional ends
In an endless lethargy, misfortune is the cornerstone of my agony
Ever-present, omnipresent
All this life is an oppressive place...
As walking among shtrobs towards nothingness
Smothering, meaningless
Somberly suffocating...
In a total lack of sanity, in a total rejection
It's a tortuous stretch, a ciclic gloom
A desolate path among sad meditations
A vicious circle with no way out