Before "me" innocence

Protected me, shielded me

Words of the wise support the pillars of the world



A false legacy of miasmatic ideas

Of a fanatic father and a subjected mother



The world ...what is it ?

A flashy game

With a beggining, middle and end

A royal theatre of tyrants

With a sterile imagination



Newborn "whys"

On one foot

A punishmet for every question

Answers "why ?"



With the passing years

The moist of philosophy got desiccated

And nothing but dry numbers were left



The world : numbers with simple excellents

Of corrupted teachers, a life of "yes sir"



"Why?" nourished a dream and a reality

In the years that passed

In the age of numbers

The passing age of numbers



The light I cherished has burned my eyes

And so I envied the blind

For they were not

Witness to my downfall

(Witness of our downfall)