The dawn presents to me, my crucifixion,
Once again I find myself unable to perceive, the light of this world,
For me some bleak place that exists, beyond the window,
Far from my own comprehension,
Farther still, from my heart,
Too many days spent in shadow,
Too many nights at worship, in a house of nails,
Too much blood spilt, upon the altars of nihilistic enodation,
Too many tears spilt amidst the forlorn cadre of ruination,
For so cold now is this shadow become,
That which bleeds so uncontrollably in its exile,
In its secluded indemnification,
That which needs wish could leave to wither and die...
My starving life....
My Starving life,
Within this breath, within this form,
And now suffocating in the coruscation of dawn,
Its venomous blades of dendritic light,
That pierce the heart, on a new day's rise,
Come now, cold and lonely stranger,
Come fourth in your viral and darksome raiment,
For to walk with you at my heel,
Is to be borne by you, through the forward paths of my own seeping blood,
Sweetly poisoned my words striven to still my own soul,
Solemn my longing for a broken body to match my broken heart...
For I live amongst this death and detritus,
All I see I behold in dread,
Born to this world with my eyes wide open,
No comfort for me here in mortal realms,
No pleasure in filth and its folly,
No faith in such illusions,
So baleful this Eden of man's ectopic ego,
Grown now far in ignorant abandon,
His supremacy ill-gotten and misshapen,
Lent to misrule and the downfall of all,
Turned away from nature, away from gods,
His back born against wisdom,
He stands above the world, but not upon,
Desecrate not this ancient earth you choose to forsake,
Lest it should cover you in long decrepit sleep,
Withdraw now your sapping talons from the veins of creation,
Lest it should float you dead, back down the paths of your advancement,
Collapse now away from me veils of concretia,
Fall to the ruin you have nurtured for us,
Embrace the unfolding of your myriad betrayals,
Die now and be gone from my sight,
May you wash away in the returning tides of extinction,
For your poison has enslaved the very air that suffers us to live,
Your filth has reached depths that we should for fear have abstained to stray,
And what of my shadow amongst this ruin...
That which falls against the earth, so diaphanous and enfeebled,
For what is such penance bequeathed me,
That I should find only this emptiness in which to enthral myself,
That I should here toil myself to tears,
In return for the deep and tender welts of ignominy.
Once again I find myself unable to perceive, the light of this world,
For me some bleak place that exists, beyond the window,
Far from my own comprehension,
Farther still, from my heart,
Too many days spent in shadow,
Too many nights at worship, in a house of nails,
Too much blood spilt, upon the altars of nihilistic enodation,
Too many tears spilt amidst the forlorn cadre of ruination,
For so cold now is this shadow become,
That which bleeds so uncontrollably in its exile,
In its secluded indemnification,
That which needs wish could leave to wither and die...
My starving life....
My Starving life,
Within this breath, within this form,
And now suffocating in the coruscation of dawn,
Its venomous blades of dendritic light,
That pierce the heart, on a new day's rise,
Come now, cold and lonely stranger,
Come fourth in your viral and darksome raiment,
For to walk with you at my heel,
Is to be borne by you, through the forward paths of my own seeping blood,
Sweetly poisoned my words striven to still my own soul,
Solemn my longing for a broken body to match my broken heart...
For I live amongst this death and detritus,
All I see I behold in dread,
Born to this world with my eyes wide open,
No comfort for me here in mortal realms,
No pleasure in filth and its folly,
No faith in such illusions,
So baleful this Eden of man's ectopic ego,
Grown now far in ignorant abandon,
His supremacy ill-gotten and misshapen,
Lent to misrule and the downfall of all,
Turned away from nature, away from gods,
His back born against wisdom,
He stands above the world, but not upon,
Desecrate not this ancient earth you choose to forsake,
Lest it should cover you in long decrepit sleep,
Withdraw now your sapping talons from the veins of creation,
Lest it should float you dead, back down the paths of your advancement,
Collapse now away from me veils of concretia,
Fall to the ruin you have nurtured for us,
Embrace the unfolding of your myriad betrayals,
Die now and be gone from my sight,
May you wash away in the returning tides of extinction,
For your poison has enslaved the very air that suffers us to live,
Your filth has reached depths that we should for fear have abstained to stray,
And what of my shadow amongst this ruin...
That which falls against the earth, so diaphanous and enfeebled,
For what is such penance bequeathed me,
That I should find only this emptiness in which to enthral myself,
That I should here toil myself to tears,
In return for the deep and tender welts of ignominy.