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Anger kills the homeless souls
I am the convict of the filth world with no father. I killed my soul not to ask about him so I’m the orphan that begs on the corners of fate for Alfa distribution in a field of mines… Because of the bullet thoughts I buried him thousands of times in the ground under my knees; six feet under of punches felt by the body vanished in hate and no tear drop will resurrect the affection he lost – on the dark streets washed by alcohol vapours and evil disease. My heart cries for the mist that captured my mind! I am the child that searches for love somewhere in the lost shelter. I erased my tracks so no one will find me hanged by the memories I dream of… God is the only audience on a stage with one performer that acts with three different roles: son, father and … sinner for killing his soul!
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