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The utter defeat

Of the vessels of life, desperately being-toward-beyond

Buried in futility, beneath the cities of men

In rapture I reproduce the postures of Death

Absence of light

The cold body lies among decay, stones and mold

Embalmed in haze

Slowly drowning into some kind of obscured trance

I dream of forms: forbidden dismal halls

Forgotten for ages or countless aeons more

Against this preposterous form of life

We bow ourselves in worship of Death

Against the poison of existence, I use the body's ignorance as medicine, a way to unbeing

Ascetic allopathy. Induced, induced disease

Flesh is the curse of the spirit. A murky illusion of sullen eyes

The source of misery - Endless, perennial

The soreness within - Rotting us

Fading bitterly - Relentless doom

Repulsive wish for life - Mortal scum