- Back to the lion’s den …
Back to the stained areas, the walls filled with gray, ghosts under the cap.
Back in the storm of past memories. To once again become the monsters of the story.
To shut ourselves in.
To forget ourselves.
Canas, Patches and Hats in illogical equation which becomes again into inert nightmare on our hands. While the world scarcely rubs his eyes, awakening from the Apocalypse, three demented meet again covered by the echoes of his own past and the things they left behind.
It is time again to tear our skin. It is time again to sully the stories, to leave heart pieces in the corners. It is again a road that we already recognize. The needed paved trail. The thorns are back.
We return to take charge of our torment, even more aware of the necessary sacrifices, the blood the new horizon will require. We return this time to finish what we started.
There are no lights outside the barred window. There are no windows at all. There are no stars on the horizon or their holes. There are no looks to the south that fill us with sighs, no beats beyond the deep silence of our own beats, frozen in time spent in this war. There are no reasons or motives. There’s nothing to lose, since we lost it … therefore, there is no fear.
110 katanas that will mark the 110 sword lunges to the soul. Each will carry away a moment in our lives. 110 cigarettes consumed in sleepless nights absent from dreams. There will be 110 cups of coffee like raven wings, bitter in essence and presence to remind us why we decided to die in this task. There will be 110 kisses kidnapped, 110 blank stares, 110 daily sacrifices, nothing to gain or lose in the attempt …and then his Coven. All the ghosts and demons summoned. All the dark days and sleepless nights. All charcoal and ink sketches, all the memories behind the walls we erect. All the neon lights in our breaths, all the crystals that scratch inside these three silhouettes of men that not longer are men.
Canas, Patches and Hats …
We grab againg the madness as the only alternative to outlive.
We put our gut on the table again.
We give everything to built the dreams we have lost.
Here we are. We will not take prisoners.