Mensagens
"and by darkness
of that night
he came to know himself
as blight
born upside-down
and on a tether…"
the arrows of doom
cometh to our flesh
in a sacrilegious ritualistic will
pray for the oceans to bring us no quarter
all ancient god's, from the foam will rise
summoning the weaving haze
that will clear
through a glory in demise
bringing the chariots
of a soul's damnation
the skeleton trees
bare branches
of what i was supposed to be
a buried ancestry
dancing silently
in the gallows - singing to us
the voice of tragic tales
in their silent ways
decaying displaced souls
the magnetic images brought us back
to the hostage that bites the hand
all life's incision
in a constant derision
obscenity in vitriol
as a response to all things trivial
which senses the strains, through our astral plains
(we 'll be the furrows now…of an hellish trial)
