Poems
Tout ce que vous trouverez sur cette page est ma création. Je vous prie de respecter mon droit d'auteur et de ne pas les reproduire sans mon consentement.
All you see on this page is my creation. I ask that you respect my copyright and dont reproduce any of it without my permission.
Equilibrium
When the sun sets on a black sky and the moon illuminates the wasteland of civilisation, when rivers of ink flow slowly to the abyss, taking with them the sunken dreams of men drowned in an ocean of meaninglessness, when winds of change break-up and die on the cliffs of indifference, then I wake. I am but a whisper, screamed by a collective self-righteousness, but an idea, a thought, a concept, forgotten by your slumbering conscience; I am a philosophy, a politic, an absolute law for which armies are built and wars are fought, on political battlefields, over fields of sorrow. I am a false prophet, the murderer of thousands, an idol worshiped as god, its priests calling for unholy crusades; I am a pest, a sickness, an engineered plague, self inflicted in the name of advancement. I am chaos in the hearts of men, genocide and death to the world, a grenade placed into each newborn child, staying alive by holding its breath. I am a gun pushing in your back, a flame reaching for Mother Nature, men's greatest weapon pointed at humanity, since the beginning of time and to the very end. Men are but puppets, blinded at birth, muted by life, paralysed by fear of the unknown; empty shells, slowly floating in the void, awaiting the apocalypse.
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