(...I wish to liquify myself...)
Into streams of blood,
Flowing on the borders of desert streets,
I wish to be a shadow,
Moved by the wind,
Observing with the eye of the night.
I wish to fluctuate without feelings, without dreams...
Through centuries,
Without respect for the air,
Poisoning all the birds in the sky.
Without respect for the water,
Quenching these ghosts.
Without answers to the questions of these dead trees,
A forest of dead trees, Old and rotten.
Where the smell of old... the taste of d**h...
Reigns supreme,
Spectral landscape is all that remains o your desire of life.