Rising abyss
On the heaving sea of rotten flesh,
A rising tide of reeking death,
Longing for the sun’s caress,
The drowned are crawling up the depth,
Reaching for the fading light,
From a distant heaven falling,
Rendering their ghastly sight,
That through the dark comes prowling.

Within
I seek not gold that glitters, nor pleasures of the flesh,
To free the mind or save the soul, those are not my quests,
I live not in the hope of rememberance and glory,
Wish not for the world to immortalize my story,
I dwell not in the moment, or on that which is to come,
The rythm of my melody, it needs no worldly drum,
I move in trance to music that never stirs the air,
Performed by an orquestra which simply is not there,
I behold such sights of wonder as I open up my eyes:
Fire, purple, azure, but the colours are all lies,
The world is just a mirror, and I am just a man,
Who stood before a chasm that no mind could ever span,
To venture any further, I had to take the fall,
Into that gaping abyss which lurks within us all.