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God bless us everyone, we’re the broken people livin’ under loaded gun. And it can’t be outfought, it can’t be outdone, it can’t out matched, it can’t be outrun, no! …Like memories in cold decay, transmissions echoing away. Far from the world of you and I, where oceans bleed into the sky…

Don’t think those eternal warriors as darkness who are fighting against it. Explosion of feeling may bring back the liberty, bombs are worn with that faith. Nitric acid’s applied in the root of sensation. With the care of blood ‘n’ sweat, like in wartime vigilance, declared the ordinance…. “The Ordinance of Crusade”.

The infection of blueish vein is in body. Banishment in daily life. A gun is needed, with a bouquet of rose. Ice coldness & unbearable heat of hesitated suspicion and shameless pretending of dynamic & static time are tolerated. Standing in favour of these eternal patient & vidictive existence. The extreme close-up at this moment. Find it out in undiscovered letters…

So give me reason, to prove me wrong, to wash this memory clean…


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Orion Caspar


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