4.old

here we go, barely remembering what happend before.
memories fade to grey, turn to dust, to nothing
running in circles.
let your soul melt, melted hate, molten love, liquid fear.
embracing every pure emotion, trying to find that spark
that makes us burn again.
every thread of felleing analysed, dissected.
silent screams rising, unable to break the molten walls of
our dis-emotional prison/cage.

that's the end of fairy-tales.