Do you sometimes think about the consequences of your thoughts?
Maybe all we may know is right or it can have been worth the pray.
What is lacking is a proof for the sceptics that have once said
That our lives are just a natural chemistry just a full set of pieces of a puzzle
As far as nothing can yet be revealed. The bet is probably worth the play
...is the bet worth the play? Cos this path is a dead-end. What’s at the end of this one?
Probably nothing, the unknown creates fear, the unknown can generate hope too
Or it can burn.
When roads lead to nowhere doubts take root in the spirit
As steps drive to the end of the trip, we come to think.
I almost feel some kind of deliverance...
“Put your hands on my cheeks, and let’s dance.
Around us, nothing else than Love
Think about nothing, just smile and laugh...

Rainbows, coming from your bed, cross this room,
Inside your tired and wet eyes, I can see you bloom.
Centre of attraction of my thoughts, of my Life,
Increasing Love, increasing devotion.
Are you my goddess? Are you only my daughter?”

Tu es cette délivrance. Tu es une nouvelle vie...
Un nouveau commencement pour moi...

Free me and make it possible for me to forget
Beyond my suffering.
Protect me from my past,
I don’t want anymore to be obsessed by this remembrance
I don’t want to hide but fight.
Free me from these chains that marked me
From this weight I kept to myself.
I want to walk, I want to grow up
Live again to die proudly
Far away from the origin, we often lose our desires.
Boredom of the cities
Am I too different from the caricature they created?
I never unveiled my thoughts.
Now I have the pledge to enter this disillusion
Some are still yearning for a better tomorrow
I wish I had the same hope
But my eyes witness that no one is looking beyond the horizon...

Symbols engraved in the wood of the tables or written on the desks or the walls of public toilets.

Features of humour or philosophy, poetry, despair, support to a team, a land, a country, a neighbourhood.

Sometimes simply a date and a name saying “I was there, I existed here”.

Esoteric drawings, cartoon characters, caricatures, song lyrics, regrets, love words for an idol, a man, a woman.

Words of hatreds, obscenities, traces of identity left everywhere.

The reflection of these human beings, follow one another, being like each other, melted strings of parallel destinies.

They try to tell they’re alive.
They wish they wouldn’t be forgotten.
As they got print by the sand glass for the eyes that follow...

Seasons go by then always come back.
The story of mankind repeats constantly.
Life regenerates itself, as Earth spins round.
Being born, live, die and... come back?

Existence is made of cycles as we turn on ourselves, we dig our own hole.
It’s the blue globe’s wear
Times fades away but scars from the past are carried away with it.
Is future a projection of the past?
With present as the center cast.
In this sphere, where tragedy is history
Men have always been fighting for the same dream.
All is cyclical, trapped in a clock
For each and every element of life
All is cyclical...

They’re alone finished with their holy task.
Still I can’t find peace, I know what will remain within me.
I know the weight of the feather and that it means... “Damnation”.
Soon enough Ammut will have her feast
As my heart is corrupted with Sin.
Power drove me to the edge of Decadence and I’ve crossed it sometimes
“I didn’t make evil. I didn’t commit violence... I didn’t lie. I didn’t fornicate...”
How could I lie before this God’s assembly?
My soul will never be as light as the feather, fear stars to invade each cell of my primal being.
Guilt “distillates” its venom through my veins.
I rise above it all.
I know too well
The weight of the Feather...