thirsting, waiting I drank a sulphur feast
then, silently in an instant your flesh become me
and I was forlorn

my grave rose to the west
for centuries long forgotten,
relentless as the hungry gates of dawn
and there, amidst the rubble
of stones and earthly flesh,
I laughed and served a sulphur feast

and still it haunts me
drunk, with power
I striked at the sun,
engulfed, fiery instant
gobbling, gobbling
I devoured the stars,
my universe torn asunder

then, as dusk unravelled
the brittle of my bones,
a shredded mold of obelisks groutesque
I stive beneath the essence
derived from mortal men,
caught between two paralells of death

thirsting, waiting I sailed a sulphur sea,
of putrid furious flesh - a parody of feasting fools
where prophets and madmen- walk hand in hand