In The Fathoms Of Wit And Reason

At the marvels of shredded flesh

Unfolded in tormenting beauty,

A stone fell to the heart

And all was in vain

From ancient crypts arose

That sibling of despair

Spread like plague inside

'Till all and hope was slain.

Icy black

The beacon of this riverside.

Thread the crust

With childish glee.

Draw night from the domes of heaven

And step gently on the porch of death.

Soon all stars will shine and play

Merrily on our skeletal keys.

There will be silence and night

Like none had ever dreamt,

Even in the fathoms of wit and reason.

So lay to rest

'Neath crying pines

When dusk brings rain.

Copper tongue, it must be death

Flooding, my mouth and muse tonight.

Your time will come

In cryptic images.