The seed numbs a specific moment that makes each Thousand more thick than a detailed portrait Imperfect time Architect of relativity Bitter tune Pestilent is the drink that lubricates My null affection for compassion Intoxicating the land of the supposed Temple of persistence What action in each reaction We ignore the passage of each time In relevance of the radiance Of immortal restlessness As if we were artists of logic Imagining the alternate parallel of our fantasy The opulence of objectivity Caress of illusion Imagining the alternate Parallel of our fantasy A necessary incident that anesthetizes the relevance of Affectivity to the scratch of logic Irrelevant is the chaos that distresses Our course to the validity of opportunity I sour here the obfuscation I sour, I sour here.