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Fields At Sunset (Kirlian Camera)

I walk down a cemetery at the edge of the wind. A dusty brown raincoat maybe grey. A sanctuary with scraped walls... Dried nests forever empty. I walk along the place of the inexistent depressing eyes. Destroyed domes, the carelessness of my house. Master of ruins. Only of them can I sing the praises for the great splendour of death. Death's angels... Breath of wind. Lamb of God. Springtime sends its watering sun into these bounded lands, from windows nobody is looking through anymore. Nobody. No more. Nobody is here any longer Gathering left memories, Wandering among the sick fields at sunset... And the last money spent for pictures... and crying, while the air turns into pink and the daisy remains in your hands so small not even beautiful. You live far away from human beings and from time to time you appear among them.