Of a putrid murk
Impaled by a thousand spears
(Oh so) Yet ever pregnant
Of blood filled puss and Vermillion
-Pacis unquam non est hinc!
Where gods and men
Equally become impotent
Sterilized by spirits
Whose thirst now is but
Ever unquenched
By the stench of this mudden coffin
Whose withered ground
Is by neither reached
Abandoned must be the vessels
Once and for all and by all
- Substance induced Hallucination
Left is but rue
A livid dream whеre
Copper leavеs are sharpened
And engraved (with a multitude)
Of traps and Formula
Left out, unhidden
To poisonous rain
To cover in an amount
Unstinted, supreme dissolver
Of ardent Maeteria to rise
Backwards as clouds
Over mountains and obstacles
Hiding in silence and secret
Yet to be uncovered!
To guillotine the spirit!
As furter sappings
In a state of shock still
Upon the conscoius mind
To guillotine the spirit!
To Guillotine!
To Guillotine!
To Guillotine!