1. AD MORTIS INFINITUM

Dawn caught me in a shimmering silver haze.
The early sun caressed me and drove away the morning chill,
Dispelling the clinging damp mist
And revealing the canonised valley.

I felt its timelessness and was immersed in awe.
Through an arch of leaves I gaped,
Afraid to take the step which would blemish
That silent, perfect beauty.

A tinge of ominous red across the darkening heaven,
A jackdaw perched on the gallows.
Three pensive men of faith,
Two hundred credulous fools.

With impunity I've slain,
Heedlessly marched into battles of others.
Impervious to the most mordant of jeers
I transcended mere mortality,
But in one transitory moment of hatred
Work of eons was swept away.

The small boys have come see me hang.

The creaky sound of rope against firm wood
The only mournful accompaniment
Of my patronizing decease.
Two muffled caws, one final twitch,
And the callous hands cut me down.

I sleep through the night and wake up anew
As dawn catches me in a shimmering silver haze.
I pass underneath the leafy arch and hear myself scream
the piercing newborn's cry.


2. MAKE-BELIEVE LOGIC

Confined to the frames of our minds
Our lives revolve around our little own selves.
Our notions of truth are the only truths
And the question to make sense of the senseless
is "why?"

Oh why?

In the fading sunlight we ponder the ways
And ask questions that will always stay unanswered.
When reason fails we turn away,
Unwilling to face the truth.

In the fading sunlight we ponder the ways of the world
And ask questions that will always stay unanswered.
When reason fails we waver and turn our eyes away,
Unwilling to face the truth.

Countless are the sleepless hours I've spent
On mulling over non-existent times
And gazed in mysterious awe
The cradle of time and matter
That curves around
And within me,
Embraces me
And shows me to otherworldly planes.

Where evil thoughts remain
And feelings have no name
Insanity retained
The otherworldly, otherworldly planes

I found my way to the birthplace of dreams
Of blissful sorrow, of woeful joy.
Here things have no names;
I know them by their true nature.
Drifting further now, I realize
This is it, the epitome of existence,
And I know, when time is due,
I'll meet death in ardour.

Every pale gray day I see the people in their droves
Sticking to their mundane, rancid ways.
Learn compassion and be true to yourself while there's time
Or one day you will expiate your pride.

How could have things been any different
When the difference was to be found in me?
How could I've supposed change to be possible
When the subject of change should have been me?

All I loved, I loved for selfish reasons.
In everything I looked at I saw small glimpses of myself.
In newfound understanding I shall begin my
transmigration of souls.
It's all so painfully obvious now.

It's so cold in here.
It's a game of make-believe.
Shafts of yellow and tan streak the sky
Only fade into a dark and dreary night.