Scribbling
Tragedy of Wanderer:
“In the guise of sacred sermons, you let your dirty fantasies grow
abound. You feast upon the fire of vice while lecturing about the greatness of
virtue. Alas! Only if it could have been so easy to change the day into night
or the sun to the moon; you could only put a veil and declare boastfully your
shadows have no face, but remember when one is to witness himself in the
darkest of hours of twilight, one is often too vulnerable to be protected by
their fictitious charm. it is often those same faceless shadows one enjoys
displaying in large frames laden with gems on the walls of fabricated dreams
which turns out to be cold-blooded killers and strangle oneself in hollow
silence. Tragedy or mockery, who knows?”
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