Dysphoria - From Swans To Vultures

Текст:

I was once enforced to be a stoic driven by emotional hunger.
A love scenario decimated me and continues to extract all the remaining energy.
Full-flowing previously, shining lakes of my eyes, has now dried out.
We lost our power to submerge into the deep of our consciousness.
We were left in dirt of our vices, a suffocating atmosphere of the relationship exposing the malignant ego of the erring.
Feelings permanent ignition, a chaos of everyday life turned us into hungry jackals trying to tear off a piece of mental flesh at every friendly time.
You must pass all circles of hell to find what is love.
A work of picking and touching on the raw. A strike home.
Bleed but don’t die – that is our motto.
We exchanged the knowledge of each other in joy and sorrow to get harmful experience of our sufferings and phobias inspired by social doctrines.
We hold out against each other to death, and then we bring ourselves to life to endow with hope, filling the air with false fragrances of love and understanding.
All these manipulations are being made in trembling expectation to drive a dagger even deeper straight into the heart of glowing love.
And in this decomposition stench of once blooming symphony we are circling a death dance, washed by minor notes of distrust and furious anger.
We are the vultures waiting to feast with fermented flesh of love and life.
Beautiful in your indifference and mental confusion, you got the right to choose whether to suffer the odd circumstances.
I am no saviour. I am no saviour.
Behold our joint creation unworthy of living due to only destructive energy output which buried by cascade of feelings.
Our only salvation lies in liberation from shackles of this devastative cascade of feelings and emotions.
Our salvation is liberation.