I was not there, he told me the story,
I will not tell the truth, what will you do?
He was not there neither, but he told it to me!
Was it the truth? May it be true?
Just dreams, one holy and utterly stupid world,
they say the end is near, he asked me is there something else?
Such thoughts are extrinsic to him...
Nothing human is alien to me!
Is it true, could it be?
One mass acceleration moment of the core of my thought,
just a second, not even that!
sunset, summer nights, at nightfall just nyctophobia.
Again dreams instead of life, again atrocious fear,
should I change?
or die slowly like this?
or disappear...
Strange this man was? Alien he is,
like wine of foreign growth,
a visitor from abroad,
a candle he handle, the truth he seeks,
the world he razed!
Foreign this person is!
Not apprehensive, not anxious, not fearful,
a gloaming moment it was,
when I conceives, that man is me,
just an other movie whose end I had to see!
