De Rebus Que Greunter

Wwhat urge me to do right?
The emptiness
The conciousness of living in the void of the feral muting against the vacant
Cold void
The incensed endeavour to rescing the fact of vacuty to be doomed
Neverthless
My imagination
Just symbols or repressed desires?
Vision of adoration and death?
And the disillusion of living in a world that has to be rescued
An age
That is sainted to mental decline and
My incapability to struggle for liberation
My last minute should not be marked
By the realization that I never really lived