Dependency... Obsession... Past. To the men buried in misery, escapism assures the illusion of what has been denied (happiness and freedom) and through dead-ends, alleyways, trash and dust-roads are crawling those who have denied themselves. Rotten body, filthy skin. Vomit! Poisoned, your flesh languishes. The smell of alcohol exhales from the soul. Disgusting image of what once was a man... Addicted! Night falls in the valley of the outcast. In every corner your heaven, in every sidewalk your hell. Red in your eyes, failure. Wounds on your skin, death. Inside every bar there is hope poisoning the body suffers... In agony, the people die! A barrier of alcohol and blood in front of the one who trails the path of victory and as the wind emerging from dawn, hope is reborn in resistance to poison. I denied! The black marks cross the hands that raise and tattoo the soul of those who resist! No obsession, no dependency and no weakness.