Cioran Records

We condemn.
We declaim the trial.
Neither fatalism nor free will.
We are the plants that appear to their own demise.
The root is damaged, soon the branches will follow.
Our souls are pure, but become corrupted in their corrupt bodies.
Our days devour us.
The muse gives off its best scent when broken.
We believe that the tree's worst enemy is the seed that comes out of its kidneys.