---

And maybe it is the other way around
If they're still alive haunting my frozen, rigid face
And each time they visit they leave a spark

Penetrating
Suffocating
Punishing me

Punishing me

They,
The primal reason
The force ripping from the bottom
Forcing two moments in time to become one
Two moments passing through space in unison

For they are the sunken city of dreams
An underwater friend
For they are phantoms born of madman's delusions brought to life

Or maybe it was the other way around

And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night.
And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel,
and died each in the despairing posture of his fall.

And the flames of the tripods expired.
And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.

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