This air of silence,
Breathes through the sullen mist
Transparent winds,
Ease these age-old wounds

As stale thoughts disappear,
Through Morpheus pathways
I am in wake but dreaming

This warmth annuls,
As time drew slowly upon this wretch of life

Weary sighs of condolence never did urge with zest,
The fire within hands made to rest

Swallow me within sin,
This blood flows free through my veins
Procure my will through lascivious rite

Delving subliminal realms,
As lust invites me to stay,
Engulfed within flesh

Casting gaze at the puppets,
Acting out their play
Their slightly wooden frames,
Stretched and splintered by their masters

Crawling beneath their minds' eye

Those whom follow, reflect,
And do not become

Not to beNot to be

Their words waste my time here,
With their fragrantless tones
A veil to distract those whom wouldst live

To create,
Not to serve

I walk amongst the shadows of the dead,
Thoughts bleeding into the ether

Into endless night