Cradling in folly of a perpetual needing,
suckled on the breast of eclipsing pendulums
as they sway like feathers in the wind of oblivion.

Let us dance in merriment to who will be bleed first
on the yearnings of the ever afters creation.
Cradle me till no breath evades your grasp.

Sing me a song of lullabies in static form,
I need to feel expired in the breast that nurtures
me into oblivions cold breath that is stagnant.