Lord_Zenith

The value of life is what one gives it. 
Perhaps by the sublime path which gives us thought, the ancient will? Or the benign soul within, growing alongside us?

The impuls which affets our ideals and leads us onto stimulation. The neverending pain, offspring of desire without action.

The duality of empathy and apathy. We gaze while legacy builds on, a murky lake of order which no distinction to black or white.

Who will be able to live, endlessly protecting order while acting reckless in an attempt to escape their fate?

Five paths to reach a pinnicle. With embelishments of a semblance of order, unnerving comedy and enrapturing desire.

Who? Who can truly live?

Table of Shooting Myself

Table of contents

Volume 1