Misanthropy

Shouting in silence, and silence takes me to the glory, I discovered the

infinity of my mind in solitude, insatiable anxiety of understanding between

the real thing and the abstract thing my world is the imagination and the

true thing. Misantrhopia, it does not look for the pleasure but mental purity

Misantrhopia. The emptiness fills up my core. Outer search of the spiritual caresses,

Deficiencies, wealth in my interior, rebel subtle of the established

Abandonment of the collective stupidity

Misantrhopia, the abyss it's dwelling, misantrhopia, I complete link of

the reason. To live in if same, far from everything, headdresses my hands,

But never my world, I have a sea of ideas in my mind and you cannot imagine

the weaves at least. Happy melancholy, the suffering comes from outer

nostalgia, the art distracts the time and of the time it waits for the renaissance

In the death