Angel dust

Blowing at the surface
a brise, a brise
of an angel, an angel's dust's
come to earth.

Reality's been superlativly twisted,
it's now a labirynth,
a maze made of mirror
crystal clear,
deciving as the other side of the wave.

Tectonic transactions commanding
a plan of action devised by thoose
whose face is yet to be drawn
in the circles the moon leaves behind.

Oh, ilusion, desilusion,
nobody knows, neither do I,
thought i'm not far from being,
don't be fooled I never was.

Where should I proceed from this point?
I guess i'm lost in infinity's lower level
so i might as well go all the way down

Angel dust, angel dust,
let me go,
let me drown.