From stillborn narcissistic illusions,
we swoon and fall
As our paralyzed efforts bleed
Lamented upon the altar of dreamless fascinations
Through the cycloneheart vertigo
Vague pleasures reap the storm... of decline
Inhale the fumes, when red oceans reek
And let indulgence be the crows’ feast
Through words unsaid and things undone
We have chosen the path of eternal mists
O dear Earth!
Bestow me the pride of the one who fell first
And into thy welcoming arms unfurled
receive me!
With the spiral crown now I coalesce
To encoffin the light’s glamorous ruins
Shall these scarlet tears embitter the wine
of impressions?
Through nascent dusk and lethean tides
I march as the maelstrom embraces me
With equiessential gracefallen darkness
So pure in its simplicity
Through the conduit of hallucinations
I have embellished the grief of trenched beds
To wipe the savage grin off from the face of existence
And yet, somehow, Aeshma Daeva still rages within me
I’ve never asked for permission to suffer –
I must confess
but now when we crawl at the feet
of the devil himself
For dearer to me are the flames of Gehenna
Than the gyves that the juggler’s hollow words expose
