Fragments/Journal: The Uncontrolled Voice

The uncontrolled voice is much like the silent fool—singing a language no other words may bring to cadence. And the domesticated voice is that corpse of asceticism, wandering into the dark daylight misanthropy of exile by the muses. Here we tread the holloway formed by spirits abandoning their positions—both the war and the girl lost to us, all flickering towards the unknown. The virgin heart now drowning in that Lake of Echo's.