Trouble (Éveils Infâmes)

Another one of those livid mornings
Where anxiety waits patiently
For my eyes to rip apart
To slip inside me
Nervous and perfidious
To persistently work on a drawing begun
Years ago
Always lengthening the strokes
Darkening them
Coldly sweeping away my slightest bliss
In my skull, something bothers me
Constricts my brain

And, without my knowing it, regurgitates some grey
On that which lives, glows all around here
My first visions, enchanting
A ceiling which taunts me, beaming
Bringing me back to my own imprisonment
Dripping walls, way too close to one another
Among which I struggle
After thinking about it for a while
I only have one thing in mind
Losing myself into darkness, abysmal blackness
There where nothing exists at all
Only emptiness and the shelter of silence