Nemesis - Mortuus

You are prophets of your own demise;

As the vastness of hell is expanding in every direction

And you follow it with empty hearts, leaving naught unexplored

Even against your pretended will

And lo!

your child-hood fear is the redeemer of the present!

The pulse of death is indifferent to all

Inhuman, faceless, relentless

And you seek freedom therin

In a self-imagined importance

Kneeling with heads bowed to infertile soil

Still you chose to bathe in the excrements of history

In the simplicity of hunger, sleep and pro-creation

In blindness you deemed Satan comprehensible —

Still you can not even see the smallest grain of sand,

In this desert of otherworldly misgrowth

Where we erase our names from the book of life

And let our voices fade into nothingness

For what could ever be more beautiful

Than the abandonment of it all —

In a self-chosen bestial madness?

You have known it, but stood in denial of your most vile desires!

The construction of the «I» becomes laughable

This hunger transcends every human impulse

A ray of light in another world raises a shadow in ours

And what difference does wisdom or folly make

When not even one language is discernible in Babel?

A multitude of voices

Angelic, demonic, human, and the silent ones

Unbidden you stand against in the terrible mess of sound