The Last Breath Of My Mortal Despair

Empty

Is the chosen way better than the life once known? 
I think so but sometimes, sunk in the despair of my existence, 
I long for the other life. Would have been easier to live with it… 
Nevertheless truth is nothing against self-deception, 
Deception. 

principles are worthless if idealist can´t carry on his rules… 
with his own recollections…So that’s the better way. 

I lived in great grief, for them, for myself but overall for the memory 
that I could be one of them… and life’s shadow made it vanish as a dream… 
Me, in blind agony of my frustration, in more than one occasion 
begged to live for anyone of its merits. 

Did I beg for more 
than I could take hold? 
I maybe hoped perfection for a tortured soul? 
A soul never fed up with sorrow…never minds now. 

Here, where neither a star with 
its poetical light full of mysteries, 

Is the chosen way better than the life once known? 
I think so but sometimes, sunk in the despair of my existence, 
I long for the other life. Would have been easier to live with it… 
Nevertheless truth is nothing against self-deception, 

nor the sun with its warms rays of life 
caresses this dimension of existence 
Here the journey towards darkness 
begins through roofs of cold stone, 
though perfidious 

walls which show death’s tumefaction 
in the glowing torches……………… 
Now and here the only thing……………. 

I remember…the last breath of my mortal despair…
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