---

Staring death in the eye at the very second leaving the womb. Existential questions arise along the lifeline. Will you be leader or follower? Will you seek beyond the common sense of 'why are we here' and find new meaning? And what hope can you cherish, when trust and faith trembles, with the fact of a constant failure that 'adorns'  mankind?

"Mors Vincit Omnia"

A fate - sprung at first light

Behind my two eyes

- All granted Ignites -

And through the third

I seek - Become - And Be -

March!

Oh well of infinite loss

Vessel of my Magnus fall

To you my grip is tightened

Concealed in sway

Death bound -

On the shores of misery

Riding a pale horse

With Lightning bolt

And scythe at hand

The return - to the morgue of Hope

Return - But never to humanize

Speak with the voice of Nada

A soundless sound to fill the void

Awake in illusion

For the soul to mesmerize

Reign forth and prevail

By the blackest of prophecies

With tangled arms and iaws alike

"Vi et Animo"

The return - to the morgue of Hope

Return to nature's own

The decay - It lies

in the curve of smiles

In the hearts that yearn

In the hearts that burn

In blossoms that deprive

In the Dead Gardens of light

Where I uplift my gaze

And I forever chase...

"...The soil of the wild untamed

mind, in all it's grandeur &

splendour. In which I plant my

seeds to rise to a dismal height...

...It shall grow and overflow

Rising high above the glow

Blackening out the nursing light

Of a now starving sun

it once had grew upon"

The days of your life

all are numbered

Now go on, count backwards

till the day that you'll die

Divide it by three, but minus

your poor fucking misery

Does it add up to all

that you could be?

Forever to Return

To the Morgue of Hope

In envy to yearn

For the birth of Death