A violent contraction! Then sudden destruction, as labor pains A great tribulation - Any beginning of worlds, was for naught - and never Ever will be there nation against nation, kingdom against kingdom Lacking famine - one shattering senses as earthquakes shattering foundations Morality? All betokening what an exhausting effort it takes To be Evil Eternal transgressions of the Law, shunned at the spur of moral action - of the Word! Reason? A puppet show riddled with motion, through lifeless figures... “The chaos of the mind cannot constitute a reply to the providence of the universe. All it can be is an awakening in the night, where all that can be heard is anguished poetry” A violent contraction - as beginning of birth pains A sudden never-ever, of birthrights in the shadowplay at the grand theatre And we will rule them - when earthen pots are broken in pieces, even as I myself linger In His embrace - unceasingly before the altar of eternity where everything is to be sacrificed; Even as the sacred horror comes as illusion of the end - we will rule them! When the great fever overtakes their forehead; when the last vineyard has lost its grapes How shall we quench our thirst? When all the chalices have been drained, and when the sun escapes? Do you see? Nothing can change anything in this world, if not Knowledge attained through the forbidden The knowledge of the shifting sands, the knowledge of the immutability of how we bury ourselves head first in the desert laid barren Beauty is forever something that burns the hand that touches; the hand that fondles is branded with the violent mark of allure through the scar of repentance... Behold; When silence lingers, and we are but spectators to the crackling of the flame - Do you see? ...of all the kinds of decay in this world, malignancy may become the most decadent form of purity For when one strived but to die among strangers, untroubled, beneath a cloudless sky; One receiveth but a crown, but a scourging at the pillar; When one aspired for some measure of natural; for a death like that of a fox - not yet well versed in cunning, walking carelessly along a mountain path and is shot by a hunter because of its own stupidity... One receiveth but the brand, but the weapon, but the whip Even as the sacred horror comes as illusion of the end - we will rule them! “Indeed, the direction of the future is only there in order to elude us”