lunedì 21 febbraio 2011


Timeframes pervaded with peripheral melancholia,
Submerged in a deep-seated loosening,
Carry me into a spiral contemplation.
Time after time I wound up
Enveloped in blank circles,
Headed for nowhere.
Many a time I locked the floodgates
To my free quest
And putrified in an unrelenting captivity,
Awaiting brighter days.


Soul incest and aleatory contortion
Crossed the bloody borders
Of my inner seasons,
With a spiritless paranoia,
In a pitch-black collision.
Would I give way to implosive euphoria
Once I joined the ecstatic kingdoms
Of panic surge, full of glorious muck.
Would I be overwhelmed by unsound convulsions,
While rapt in frantic cricks.
Could I have sex with my poisonous delirium,
Could I embrace my torrential spirit disease
And kiss gnawing banes,
For opening the floodgates to dozens
Of obscene immersions,
Where hordes of celestial nailbombs
Accompanied a mystic bloodshed,
In a majestic and divine rot.

giovedì 3 febbraio 2011

At the gates

Corrosion under our skin,
Reptile slavery inside our belly,
Creeping sorrow in our flesh,
We are seeking for the final realm
Of unreserved grace.
We have bordered on the point
Of no return,
We have plumbed the depths
Of human sin,
We have seen the end
Of a wilful decadence,
We have verged on the funeral
Of our soul,
Now we are making a desperate endeavour
To come up again.
We have found ourselves
Diving into the black hole
Of decay,
Plunging into the abysm
Of ruin,
Wandering through the shadow zones
Of mankind,
We have looked over into the bottom
Of our devastated, branded body,
Now we are pleading for
The ultimate forgiveness,
We are crawling after redemption,
We are miserable,
And yet empty of low desires,
Free from carnal addiction:
We have been purified through suffering.
Now we are on our bended knees
Before the unequivocal way,
We are burning inside
At the cleansing gates of deliverance.