Grasses wheezing in the breeze
Hiding secrets underneath
A sun's rays through vegetation
Lighting crows's anticipation
Critters chatting on the bog
Calling out to me: "Ya hog!"

Apostle's ashes on the ground
To be masked by pollen abound
A crow's work washed up at rivers
Breaking its wonderful appearance
Critters chatting on the bog
Throwing thrash at me: "Ya hog!"

I just can't take my eyes away
From you, O nature, O my Love!~~~ ~ ~  ~   ~    ~

In the land we stay, at a time best forgotten,
A single trail was blazed with hope
For those who seeked it, and those who needed most
It brought the only absolution, the only life
in a defected soul.

Despite the fatherly intention, it was best taken with a layer of soot:
Flock carcasses, rotten, still stared back
Waste, its copper smell, stamped a curse for all that’s gone
And, at every step
parasites ate their way right through one’s meat;
Still yet, it wasn’t the worst that could come.

It took less than a day for it all to be gone
Hidden under layers of dust
But not of sand, such as those spread by thunder
Like it did so many times
But with soil dumped from machinstic wonders
And the Tsar’s wicked hands.

as I lay away
their chest is still coarse
from what isn't there.

The solder was pointed the wrong way
falling scrap metal through the Scrapyard's chute
"Please, be loved," it said,
"this automaton has nothing left for itself,"
resonating equally 'warm'.

On the outside of the pipeline
By the end of the occult session
You see: a carousel!
Of colours and threads woven through time,
Yarn spun with tribal glaze,
Maestro wielding the show of the Swan!

A Masquerade?
Or just another puppet show?
The meaning or distinction gone.

In the lands I'm born, only known to those
Who've tamed the seas and plundered gold,
Who've peered with death on ferry's shore,
Who've lost their chance to spell what's known...

But, if a speck of their vision's spelled,
They'd rob those spells, and spell themselves
Whole accolades! On a visage,
that had enchanted them! On a visage,
that burnt like books within their hearts,
or souls, or whatever more
you might just have!

Then your ego-freaks'll take those spells
Spread to peoples them! Exploit them!
scream across the town:

"Save thou child!" (or "las enfánt!",
If that was something too low-brow;)
"It is down there...
In the darkness...
In the pipeline...
Waiting...
For the day to reveal Itself!
When it'll break our hollow glory,
And bring shame to all our past!"

Thank Heavens! and the lot that noticed
By whom the posters have been posted...

Yet still, it didn't matter
what apostles said,
How your wisdom's been corrupted
by demons doomed to grounded damnation—
You still go and shove ballots down the drain
You call your “liberated nation”...

In the end,
If you did dare to take a proper look,
If you shed the carapace of naysayers,
Past the smoke and mirrors,
From the grunge depths, reflected back,
through lense of eyes, into your mind,
You’d receive a Single Divine Truth:

if you do see me
you'll see nothing but a kitty
passing by quickly
so silly :33

My ears had shrivelled
A soothing voice I’ve only felt
In dreams of mine before this yet
Before the night I’ve always kept
Fell upon me

“Have you forgotten how we spoke before?
Have you forgotten stacks of books
That we don’t need not anymore?”

And with it came a phantom grasp
A fuzzy feeling I have stamped
In every corner of my past
That made me free

“I wasn’t thee
Before our glorious connection
But could have been
If not for chance of inspiration!”

In the world of withered bones
Arrows shot with paving stones
I couldn’t help but step into the unknown...

“Shall we connect for once
Without the burden of the vast
Worldwide broadcast
Enjoyed by us
That made you free?”

I’ve flipped over, and witnessed those:
Long ears, big jaws, and eyes of bronze.