Advent of Bedlam

Faith goes away, without knowing whether it?s day or night
It disappears in the waters of mystery
I can?t see anything but stains of light

I disguise my ideas so I won?t contradict them
I act cautiously so I won?t be alone
Heading to the disintegration of myself
A cursed echo is embedded in my soul
Slowly rotting, gazing upon a curious face
Until I find myself in oblivion?

A false sense of one? self, a hallow excuse for a life
Becoming unconscious , an object for them to sell.