Texty:
Ion Dissonance Solace

It's like hammering the face of your little brother For him to stop crying... Out of pure benevolence, I shall proclaim myself thy older brother I shall

[Raskolnikov:] "Everyone spills it, the blood" - he answered, out of himself. Blood flows and has always flowed, as a cascade. Those that make it flow

I was sitting alone again, (in a remote corner lit only by the frail dance of dying candles) Drinking, of course, when Perdition the Elder sat down.

The sound of dripping rain beating a frail window, enhancing the tick-tocking noise in my head. Against the shivering glass, I cannot hear my own sobbing

This City is lost as I am. Standing still on an unfriendly sidewalk, Staring at the flickering streetlights... Gently pressing my palm against the