In abundance because we all know That as this elixir of life will flow We will be left exhausted but smiling. As serpents we crawl beneath The guises that we all wear. It would be folly to defy the eldest law For resistance will only supply the fire of lust With her wooden excuses. Until fatally it will consume the renegades With the flames of their denied satisfaction Phallic litanies Razor Blades of Guilt Hedonism, power in life without end Morality and remorse banished An epitaph of useless beliefs and countless mistakes Left to the outcasts. This treasure is kept and shared With the beloved loyal comrades Wearing the title of the trinity Warlord, magician and king Hands are raised grasping golden cups In a toast for hedonism.
Sounds come forth manifesting the plasticity.
One would sense the mind behind them If only he could withdraw from the relentless alterations of its forms I have swum against rivers of fallacy Chaotic symmetry, And have returned From the point of weakness To the root of triumph. From inside a cloud with the shape of a grey owl Scanning down the hill of an indian scared site I can see a figure with hair white like the snow The polar crystal breath. The shaman From inside a cloud with the shape of a grey owl Scanning down the hill of an indian scared site I can see a figure with hair white like the snow The polar crystal breath.