Empty Book

Empty Book

Compositor: Ivan Souza

Vain work thrown when it is born
It describes itself with a unpleasure pen
We are like useless file interred or thrown at the crematory
The fate is cruel, inflexible and predatory

Since the beginning, every page turned
There's nothing and if there was time of suffering
Would take every word that could have meaning

And for this absence of everything
I found out that is necessary I go away myself
And accept the condemnation of a eternity
Without value, in the deep of inertness

This emptiness recorded in my life it's like a generalized
Infection
In the shelter of the unnourished souls of light
I hope to rest

Here I denounce the truths of life's meaning in the den of suicidal theories
The biggest emotional catastrophe happnes cracking the psychological more concret
Where suffering
Waterfalls drain

This hereditary emptiness is part of human gene
You always see what doesn't exist you are always
Deceiving yourself with untouchable belongings
Climbing up the walls of ignorance
One day they will fall upon you

Every day is a dull episode
Of a long and tedious serial
And among such a denial of life
Despair drives to madness

Changing lucidity for insanity
Dazzling the reality
Replacing the reason for blindness
Leaving everything
In total mental disorder

I prefer handing me over
To a empty book of words
Than I hand myself
To a book of empty words

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