i can see. i can feel. i experienced.

it's supposed to be a celebration of life, but it's not. it just looked a celebration but the context is clear.

everyone is like snakes wanting to feast on mirrors.

the people looked good. they all portray that they are good,but they're. they are just wearing different faces... different clothes.. different smiles. all the while the place is like hell. lies rushing across its rooms... its halls.

all the screams of happiness is not what it sounds. it's not happiness, rather pleasure from outside. the pleasure so private everybody in the box knew and acknowledged.

the night is getting low. and the morning is starting to flow.  the blood oozes from the veins of the cult and the never ending rave of lies and pleasures.