Bardo

Unable of staying conscious in the morning sleep, I'm the wish of change in the womb of a new day.
The genesis of love, in my tongue.
Bath with concern, death in return.

Only those who carry the burden knows the weight is heavy.

The shell of motion becoming the breathe through which i suffocate. In the garden with no flowers, lies the seed of infertility.
The fog hides the consciousness of thought.
I move, i choke. Death in return.

Mescaline in the forehead of buddha. Pull from the sky the moon of sorrow.
Burry deep the light so there´s no tomorrow.