Mentally lost,
I live in the land of rust.
red sand within the glass.

fill it with wine, boss,
as the deserts inwardly rush,
surely its your last.

skies exist so black
epiphany to my anxiety.
succession of my depression
the absence of his majesty
violins pivot within my expression.

reapers possess the sun
but only caresses one.
am I a fruitless tomb?
within a timeless womb?

I'd reach out a hand,
and pull back a nub.
In this mysterious world I stand
within a pyramid hub.

Crows and Ravens dance in the clouds
down comes a monster so loud...