Circle of self-devouring Lamentation Of non existence Forming the world from chaos Yet nothing from this can be created Only d**h Beyond Behind Beneath The symbol of destruction Blood from the fall of stars Into an illuminated sphere Brings forth the dream of emptiness Into awareness From darkness A light that does not cleanse A void opening as a wound From the dying cosmos From the decaying cosmos Memories and flesh birth into longing and grief Gods carved from mind configurations of madness Time holds no key to the meaning of what is
And of what was We in the same breath will wisp away From all things man made Ouroboros The eternal return, to what was not To what is not, to what cannot be For it never was All was conceived from oblivion Before what was to be perceived And after that which was believed We in ourselves return to emptiness Where once creation spread from destructive forge Now back to those cosmos forced to become an echo The circle of self-devouring Flowing fragments of existence Now Non As such a thing was always meant to be