WALKING ALONG THE ISLE
MY MUSIC IS ALWAYS A FURIOUS MUM
WORDS SLAUGHTERED
MEANINGS HAVE THEIR OWN GRAVES
AND MY THEME WAS ALREADY BURNT.
YET A ROAR AND CLOUDY MUSIC
OUT OF NOTES
FLOW WITH VAIN SPASM ALONG THE
ELECTRIC NERVES..
THE GREATEST VOID OF THE SKY
IS MY SONG BOOK..
A BOOK NOT WITH VERSES
AND IT RUSTLES YOU CALL A BLEED
THOUGH YOU ALL
DRINK UNTO THE BOTTOM!
MY GLORY DANCES ON MY CORPSE.
THE FAME IS JUST A FLAME
TO MAKE MY ASHES FROM ME..
MY SOUL FISSILE OUT
IN GREAT GRIM AND BRIM OF
OMNIBUS DEATH ECSTACY.
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epsiVAN.
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