| The Sulphur Feast |
| | 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 unraveled
The brittle of my bones,
A shredded mold of obelisks grotesque.
I stive beneath the essence...
Derived from mortal men,
Caught between two parallels 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.
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