Shadows

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When ancient stars are set on fire and life is no longer a concept in our minds, where will nature lead us? Eyes shut, but our ears witness the echoes hum their story about a misleading halo. Be aware of the pity man's judgement for what is morally right or wrong. Take what it takes but remember the one with his honour is greater than the one who follows his leader. The tale of naked white days collapses when the wind turns her hand. Why are we so misunderstood when life is made so simple? And how can our hearts beat so frequently when we always fail the first time we are challenged?

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

A memory frozen in an empty sphere. Swipe your intentions and run away. Watch intently nature's doings. Run - Run - Run. This is the 100th time we let ourselves be caught. Run. Run. Run. Too busy spending time arguing with a deaf man. The one begging is about to be begged. A flowery tale is sweeter than our rhyme. Now we miss the things we used to hate. There is always a better solution than taking the easiest way out. Our dreams shape the flickering shadows of our consciousness. The one who doesn't understand history is doomed to repeat it

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

The radio is off. The paintings are off the wall. The indian became a thunderbird. What more could he give than persistence? Broken back of paper is of no use. Revision or consensus? It's all the same. Preface to the second edition. This time, nothing has changed

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

Ad infinitum here I go and you will follow me

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

She told him that you became what you draw with crayons. The strokes illustrate a greek drama. We are listening to the same stories from faraway places. And the faraway seems closer than the near does. Melting as green fields vanish. Monuments rise as we change colours. Pass the positive to the negative and vice versa. They must deem that we are dead and gone

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

Repletion and starvation lay us down together. This grid of large lines alike. Containing grids of small lines alike inhabited by people alike. |In. Out.| The same hours - the same sound - the same pavements. These hard times are the death knell for our spontanity. The shellas is in demand to start melting down your records

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

Born and raised with a lifetime. The symphony plays with its nature's crime. In this world we live in we are made of dreams, and dreams are made by us. Sweetness I hear you calling. You can easily make your own grave & dig down your past. Her head is twisting, or has the world gone crazy? The wise is paid to question the difference. While wounds grew. Let the choir sing its praisen verse. We have walked the path that we’re left to walk. Our footprints will chime its way through. Our shadows is drawn with white chalks. A self-made universe digs its own grave

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

Weak hands may equal firm valor. Circling around the world's nest, the rays of a mocking sun hits the man with a throne of a heart. Don't cheat your life with sinking nests. Never believed the lifetime is worth a cold prayer for a constant day. While death flows among us, the authentic and vital are nourished. Your wings will swim among haze

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

By now we should have learned. By now we should known better. But seems this is still our ways, ancient thoughts from ancient minds, dictating point of view. So let the wittch hunt start, now in a subtle form, let the heretics burn upon your moral stakes. No need for 2nd thoughts, 'cause the truth is carved in stone

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

Shadows and flying feathers ride the hedonistic deaths tonight. The ghost tombs hide out at the torching streets of Sorbonne, while the wrath of time floods in sinking oceans. Careful to retreat for the time. In dreams we all troat but yet to overcome. Those who chase our goals will never succeed. In the present we run. In the present we forget. As the missing man risks his appearing: disappearing. Making up for our detours who we know, who we are and where we go. Never will we have payback for the backyards where young blood was spilt

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026

As the last strokes of my typed letters reach this paper,, we will flow in an uncertain direction among the sunflower seeds. We have questioned and doubted this existences for thousands of years. Every action can be doubted. For what we know it can be an abstraction or a subjective dream. But at least we think - We live. Our mindset is repeating, like a tick tock rhythym. When will this generic motion of ambivalent structure end? I'm sick of these 4 walls. One day we will even our predestination and cure this rigid form of inertia. You breath, you give. The grasping air is a substance without any relation to reality. Maybe you are scared of your reflection. Look away, look forward. It's your life, you choose the door. Our universe will one day emancipate from a set of illusions

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Feb 23, 2026