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The swords of Thebes in Battleground,
While Creon ascends to the throne.
On holy land shall Oedipus die,
Spoke Apollo, from amongst the desolated arts...
Antigone was left behind...
To burry her brother she craves...
Her tears rant of Creon's eddict.
Into infinite sorrow she drowns...

For the Vultures feed on to...
The body of Polynices.
Hymns of the gods echo, while the crime had been committed.
In search of Antigone, the Sentry was lost.
Morality of the eddict was questioned enough.

Corrupt and conspired against Creon almighty;
Antigone was imprisoned.
As her body hangs, from the ceiling of the cave.
Creon's morals appear out of a void.
A void in which we live.
Of familial duty, she dies...
Existential void, fulfilled.
A story of utter humor.
Pessimism at my will.
Pessimism at my will.

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