...And in sudden flash of realization, I was dead,
and the world became alive...
Writhing , sprawling with an intense will to exist,
an infantile hunger for the yet to be seen.
This was me, and I was it, a dried out husk of passed mortality,
and I embraced it, longful and welcoming.

Dancing within illegible patterns,
I reveal what is unknown to me.

Whatever lies beyond cannot be understood
by the likes of those who rule.

Lord of change, distant memory.

An eternal spiral of hate and desire.
To master it is the key to...What?

Purifying the condemned,
Putrefying the catastophic.

Emotions do not exist,
they died long ago...
Your concienceness is my playground,
your mind is my chamber of torture

The conjuration
The magnitude
The grieving of our mindless existece.
"Greeneyed jester, i mock thee, thou art the plague of this world"
The pathways to mortality conceil themselves whitin the ruptured remains of desire

Rigid/smooth
Shattered/complete
I am it all.

Plaguing me like a pair of blazing eyes
that hide wherever i cannot see them.
Beholding my every physical move,
analyzing whatever hidden emotions i might wield.

Dark existence, in the shadow of the profane....

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