Guilt-Free Leeches

 It would be nice - only by will, and perhaps by deed - to cling to each other, while we knowingly fall towards the swirling depths of bundee jumping. To feel the messages of the inner personality in the secret Morse code systems of instincts; only behind the wall of color-blind eyelids that was believed to be unbreakable, this vile, vile b*****d world has treated even simple mortals. Greedy and greedy captors, who had become insatiable, dragged the seemingly incomprehensible profit-benefit with them even more than once a day.

 The shelter of the homes they found had already sunk into infinity under their feet. The uncertain chemistry of the existence believed to be unpredictable still trembles and works latently in the beating pumping heart. Towards the fate beyond the stars, man can hardly be a full-fledged guest, only a traveler. Even what was once stable has been forced to teeter in alarmingly unbalanced balances. 

With dancing sword blades, mere Fate can now simultaneously wound and offend. Because a strange poker and chess game is now what is changing simultaneously with history at all times - it seems. Now, just like the restless fleas that produce unbearable itching in dogs; so do the free-living leeches that only want to lick you every minute cling to the conscience of man. All of them are silent accomplices in this current cycle that is believed to be unbreakable; with their identity as hidden streams that must be deliberately proven.

 On the crawling deck of brainwashed, tossing minds, one knows less and less the solid shores of free-thought Atlantis, which would still call and take them somewhere. They carry heavier than heavier, more disastrous nothingnesses in the pockets of their souls as encrypted keywords. It's as if all guilt has finally died out of our visceral organs.