La beauté déraisonnée

Childhood erased, adolescence overwhelmed
Far from adulthood, fleed by the old age...

I am not reason
I am un-reason

In a maleficent game, devoid of morals
An illogical yet vital game

Your asceticism shapes my vices
You, pale inquisitors of my nights !

I admire, I implore, I adore
Free from good sense, I explore

Before the pleasure of absence
My borne sufferings dance
Revealing, through my own flesh instincts
The nihilism of Dawn...
To cross this gulf for reconstruction...

For I feel one desire
To be left with my delirium
To be left with my dreams
To be vile, sickly and mad

And even if we take our madness
For the only reason of our conscience
And even if from the heights of our hill
We mix up tears and smiles in nonsense

Take our word
Our insanity
Is beauty