Skeletons shaking
Bones fed up with spiritual dust
Lust and madness at every touch
Purple skies and unshaped forms
Time freezes and in a sudden burst
Vanishes the inhuman and primitive world
To a dark ethereal circle
Where walls are listening and roofs are falling
Where demons and creatures abrupt from nowhere
Burning eyes and floating bodies
Smoke and the smells of auto-destruction
The imperative toys of the human beings
That see unconsciousness as a forgetting gun

It's a coward coma?
Or a pleasant trip?