Reverse Prayer Good morning, my child I saw you crying again yesterday at dusk wrapped around the spirits of a faded past. I felt the shivering of your body, nailed to that bare tree of memories you won't resign yourself to the leaves falling and the ghost of winter which blackens it. Looking tearful at the scorched ground I saw you taking the Midnight Express, down the lovely hills in springtime to the dreams you were waiting to be realized which lay dead in front of you like shells on a beach. Aren't you a hypocrite, my child begging me to cut down every feeling while you voraciously taste your tears? You're foolish, little man. Not only you ignore that weeping is a gift, but you disdainfully spit on it, you'd like to throw your sighs back at me to get what? Happiness maybe? Look down the barrel of a loaded gun gently carress the trigger. Let the though of reaching the skies spread through your eyes in a viral laughter. Isn't death soft and hopeful? Doesn't pinching it's string shape a firm sound that melts the stone universe which yourself have frozen? I gifted death to men to make them happy, i gifted tears to men to let them have a sip of death. Those who refuse to burst down weeping may smile but they'll never experience the biggest of my gifts, which i call life. So flatter me, for i deceive you. So run through the delusion of the endless eyes of lovers, for when you sneak inside them like a thief you'll know that glances are fleeting like narcotics. Lick them away from the filthy ground, swallow your medicine with disdain for that bitter drop will blind you with dazzling life, will pervade your sleep with dreams of sunlit tomorrows. And you'll stop your mourning even if just for a minute. So suffer, my child wash yourself in the lightning of lunacy, break all your teeth on the shore of a kiss, and drown, drown deep down today's emptiness, for only your madness can fill it.