The sea shouts, resists upon that miserable shore,
Her foam-split tongue convulses at my mind,
Yet I turn deaf to every meaningless roar.

Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.
I’d run away with you where her tides cannot breach.
Would her pursuit fade if I ceased to exist?

I’d let her devour this world in savage spumes,
Then run away, hand in hand, chasing a new home.
If only your merciful heart could recoil beneath her glooms.

Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.
Your merciful heart cannot bear humanity’s fall.
Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.

I know their freedom, their joy redeems our chained lament,
Yet how do we flee this boundless sea of briny tears?
How can I hush your sorrow when her chase claims all intent?

Would her pursuit fade if I ceased to exist?
Could I dissolve in your silence, become your still hush?
Would her pursuit fade if I ceased to exist?

I beg to dissolve into your hollow, gentle sphere,
Let me be nothing, your empty echo in the void,
So that her obsession may find no soul to seize here.

Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.
I’d give you all I am, if you'd let me mirror your empty grace.
Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.

I am your cage, Fate’s storm raining on your arrest,
Erase me, an honor, to spare you tender tears,
Yet you refuse that solution, clinging still to my chest.

Would her pursuit fade if I ceased to exist?
But the universe grants me all forms, save the gift of true nothing.
Would her pursuit fade if I ceased to exist?

I tremble as the tide returns in her relentless song,
Yet in your arms I find my eternal, weeping home.
No hope remains, but in your hold I still belong.

Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.
I would beg you to erase my essence if that meant your freedom.
Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.

The tide advances, still I drive her back beyond this unjust domain,
There is no need to fear, the future stands unforgivingly certain,
At least you’re safe, for in our bond we both remain.

Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.
We share our souls, and in this bond at least you are safe.
Oh, beautiful Oblivion, you hold so much grief.
Even if I ceased to exist, she would still punish you instead.

You're mine, you're mine, you hear my will—
Yet still your hollow gaze betrays my claim.
You’re tethered, bound—obedient still,  
Yet he makes you look not with love, just pain.

You come when called, never late.
You wail. You break. You bend. You stay.
But not with joy. Not as I sate.
You do as willed, until he drags you away.

You flee to land—I chase you there.
Addicted to what draws you thin,
You touch the filth, breathe his tainted air,
Then crawl back home to me again.

You wear him still, you flaunt his shell—
His stolen grace becomes your skin.
Are you dressed up for me to quell
The shame you wear when drawn to sin?

Let me end Oblivion,
I demand of this silent universe.
Yet still his disease defiles my dominion,
And binds you to his curse.

I vowed to purge his hateful stain,
But even I can’t make that parasite die, die, die.
Defy, defy, defy—he abducts your heart, wraps us in chains,
If only you’d change him to bug and crush him ’neath my eye.

You stray through his haze. You stagger, blind.
I bear the burden, save you from his wicked trance.
You’re mine, mine, mine—I speak divine.
Yet it repeats, repeats, repeats—this cursed dance.

You smile for no one. Not for me.  
Not him—not even memory’s gleam.  
So maybe still you might yet be  
A broken thing that I redeem.

Let me banish Oblivion,
I beg the stubborn future.
Yet his infection thrives in every vision—  
The universe denies me a cure.

We’re both cursed, trapped in this jest,
He touches you, taints my decree.
How dare he, insidious, uninvited guest,
Still taint your every breeze?

You're mine, you're mine, and yet I starve.
He stole my feast, he stole your glow.
He stole the love I vowed to carve—  
For what is love without control?

I’ve done my part, yet still he remains.
It should be two—it should be peace.
But you never resist when he infects your brain,
And it makes our love into slow disease.

I’d almost think you loved him instead—  
But no. You smile for none, no longer him.  
No joy, no breath, I must have misread,  
You can’t help this parasite feeding on your skin.

Listen, my wind—see his decay.  
He stole my art, he stole your soul.  
Still I will chase through all dismay,  
Until you’re once again made whole.

Controlling
the language
Controlling
the power
Defining
tomorrow
With words
of today

Converting
the juncture
Converting
the instant
Defining
the moment
With all
that you say

Blessing
your loved ones
Blessing
your enemies
Cursing
the liars
Redeeming
the lost

Asking
new questions
Asking
for answers
Loving
the value
In spite of
— the cost

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)