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45.45% Sculpture of Adrenaline / Chapter 5: Lazarus

Lazarus - Sculpture of Adrenaline - Chapter 5 by Rinasekhon full book limited free

Chapter 5: Lazarus

The spurted of philosopher says that how can the slur of world voyage you

your frailty is like a volcano of glass being the air of helical anguish

Gasp for air shall we bend within the pleasure of cruelty

How do we earn to bid our farewell but yet being the filter of your conjecture on the vicinity of vitality and turmoil

I wonder even the red-eye human would be apprehensive of the maleficent glare of death

Seizing the opportunity of demons castle

Seeking slow-motion steps

The fleurs of passion being the horizon

U haven't seen the devil

But we had a perfect conversation

The corridor that spills the blood of Christ in cloud

I think it might be funny how all ends just became blurry tangibility of poison being the disputed of individuality

Never thought the euro of your nerves spatter preoccupation bumper

Shrieks vases through the halls of dark ally

Prays of starvation being the allowance predator like us

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Sleeping as u pass by

What was your justification

Of darkest secret being exposed as the lie of ashes

Death body hitters in the ground with the sound of weapon slowly cutting thru every layer of the skin

From the dermis to sinking the flawed teeth into the direction of epidermal

Factors of authority search

The siren flow in the globe of night

Sky of thunder rose at the Daugherty lands

Spooky as your blood boils

Dawn as it hunts

Lingering, bottled-up anger never reveals the 'true colors' of an individual.

It, on the contrary, becomes all mixed up, rotten, confused, forms a highly combustible, chemical compound then explodes as something foreign, something very different than one's natural self.

I shut myself off to make life bearable.

I'm like a damn machine sometimes. Unfeeling. Uncaring. Emotionless

How pathetic is this when bounds of voices were loud

All I could do was hide under my skin

And wait for the ease of pureness to hit me

To be good again

When the last I can do is be calm

The empathy of hard believes

Being warded by the scums of troll

My voices will be listen

And it will never go out of stray


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