Inhale this sweet perfume
Of acid sulphur
Spit your despair
In humiliating joy
Sweat from all your pores
Burnt by the anger

He's in you, he's everywhere
He stabs you where it hurts
He's the creator, the only one
He's back to never leave again

What would the spirit
Be if it could burn?
Evaporating in an
Asphyxiating atmosphere
Polluted by the shockwaves
Of its predecessors
Contaminated by a disease
Which has only just begun

Disappointed, speechless
Copses are falling one by one
A psychic desolation storm is on its way
Deserters are legions,
Digging their graves
Lay down, close your eyes
Sprawl in your insane certainty
You ain't pleading anyone's cause

A few scraps of memories...

Your cosmic rictus greets him
He dominates you with his
Dictorial behaviour
You offer all your light to his darkness
He drowns you in eternal
Sadness and locks you away

What would the soul be if it could shine?
Free from all its virtual sins
Like a flame spreading through a shadowy passage
Lost to his sight of pixelated memories

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