A long lost agony, ensnared Mina's tantrum. For Mina loathed what light brings forth: Eternity and desire.
She was living for the moment, encapsulated inside a splinter of instant dichotomy, caused by the alienation of the senses.
A dark mind is not an insane mind rather than one that has lost the ability to experience the momentum in sensationalism. It is a bog, filled with the filth of inertia. A sensuous mutation that twists the ability to identify the source of the stimulation.
Darkness was not the source of her fears nor death itself. They were just by- products. Mina dreaded Time!
Time as an undisclosed factor of guilt, while savoring happiness and its delights. Death and pain and darkness are caused by a crack in time while appreciating life in all its splendid doom.
There is no turning back, after consenting to this intercourse, between the first seed of guilt and the mind. Mina did this and by consequence, she closed the first small window of her soul that was shedding light towards the doorstep of her whole existence.
A beacon lit in her doom. Her journey had just begun...
Artwork: "...quoth the raven, nevermore..", by ~myebe
myebe is on deviantART: http://myebe.deviantart.com/
She was living for the moment, encapsulated inside a splinter of instant dichotomy, caused by the alienation of the senses.
A dark mind is not an insane mind rather than one that has lost the ability to experience the momentum in sensationalism. It is a bog, filled with the filth of inertia. A sensuous mutation that twists the ability to identify the source of the stimulation.
Darkness was not the source of her fears nor death itself. They were just by- products. Mina dreaded Time!
Time as an undisclosed factor of guilt, while savoring happiness and its delights. Death and pain and darkness are caused by a crack in time while appreciating life in all its splendid doom.
There is no turning back, after consenting to this intercourse, between the first seed of guilt and the mind. Mina did this and by consequence, she closed the first small window of her soul that was shedding light towards the doorstep of her whole existence.
A beacon lit in her doom. Her journey had just begun...
Artwork: "...quoth the raven, nevermore..", by ~myebe
myebe is on deviantART: http://myebe.deviantart.com/
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