English
Français
Deutsch
Italiano
Español
Mes enregistrements
addicted adept
Published Mar 20, 2020
Updated Jul 3, 2021
Offbeat
2 min
Offbeat
Published Mar 20, 2020
Updated Jul 3, 2021
2 min
0
Like
1
Love
0
Solidarity
0
Wow
0 comment 
90 readss
On Panodyssey, you can read up to 30 publications per month without being logged in. Enjoy29 articles to discover this month.
To gain unlimited access, log in or create an account by clicking below. It's free!
Log in
addicted adept
Contribute
When you're on your way under the shadow of uncertainty
you have no idea of the challenge that are waiting you on the road,
without history about the lap of time
without any planning you loose the count of days and weeks.
The ideas of the counterways of the way that is yours
in an uncertain world and empty of emotions,
the words on the time-line are soul project,
a dune, a lagon, a rune , a dragon.
And the road becomes an unpredictable nightmare where you prefer being invisible from a cruel town
Where without any attach you have smocked too much hash.
And nevertheless the nights come and goes day by day and weeks by weeks without any sense or meaning,
When you're no more an adept of the substance everything seems insipid and seems empty on a lone way road.
You have no chance you're on your way.
you can't stagnate and you can't stay.
You need at going further and over with the friends and events that presents themselves toward you.
On an inpredictable way you don't know what's gonna happend
When you are high all day and nights loose their flavour and places their tastes each day in another way.
It's a legion, an action to avoid religion,
Adept of the verb linked to the blow of an irational hatred of being boarderline only.,
Those who live their differences, go at their own tempo, their own dissidence.
Boarderline you chose to live aside without looking for any redemption.
All that same life is toxic and I meditate more than I sleep,
My eyes imaginating emptyness and pictures goes on and on under my sight,
when I don't see the shades but keep live under dis-cord-dja.
Sometimes vandal I break everything on my way,
and each time I'm surprised to be back in that asylum.
Where I loose and get back my old devils that i've had deafeated with my soul sword of extasy before that sick madness.
I forgot freedom in the chemic straitjacket and I stand towards the unruled souls.
That life is my life and I drawn in alchool not to look and get back,
then soforth hung up at the tree of winds on counterside from the smells of time.
A night of drifting, a certain idea of emptiness when you're on your way aside the edge
From badder to better the devils will forget you, just as an outline of feelings
90 readings
0 comment 
Previous publication
1 min
You can support your favorite writers
