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From within my heart, of the one whose heart was motionless
Enter Amentia, the subterranean mystery
And be restored, eternally.
The conquest is impotent
to the elegance and imminence…
A mockery, an annexation
Bound to corruption and ruination.

The slaves of uncritical rapture march
Onward to the cold scorched gates.
And are hounded by insatiable desire,
Lowered in cages by ropes and chains
To the eternal river of fire.

How long until we meet ourselves,
From across this gorge of dissonance
When one aspect of existence is the second’s antithesis.
So perceive of me as flame, with contemptuous desires.
And so ensnared in an impotent crusading garrotte,
I am flame and fire.
Our value is determined
From exclusive physical utility, derived.
And scraped and carved internally,
I, somehow, paradoxically survive
And so in being fire I may, naturally
Devour them alive.

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