In those woods, I still remember the odours

The moistened bed where I chose to sleep

Surrounded by my own crimson liquor of existence,

I started to fade in history



At that moment,

Only the sound of pulsations through my arms consolidated my seclusion



Anesthized by fury and desolation

I inflicted myself capital retribution



As the leaves were coloured with my constitution

Grief and lamentations suited me with an astonishing cold



As the dark sky vanished before my eyes,

Fragments of consciousness could only illustrate parcels of this affair



I sadly can't restore every event in its respective time.

Agitated voices, strident sirens and blistering pain in both arms