Rebus of debris ex hieroglypho from hieroglyph

From the material of the soul as some fingers touch it. His fickle body. Our construct. From images of eyes. The fall into sleep of the soundless soul is dangerous. Float on the flat surface of the sea of ​​the soul bottles thrown into the sea who lie motionless in the eternity of the soul. Holed eyes of the inner night. His grace. Skinned. Of the hardness of the glass. Of the confinement. From the epidermis of the secret. It is the message of the wound. Secret message whose sacrilegious transcription exposes the wound. With paper nails. With the roughness of abandoned words, mute from the sea, flayed with screams. Clean time bug. Gaze twilight error. From the flames of oblivion.

Sense, then ex-isto as a hypothesis / thesis.