Offerings unto the enlightened one.
Six billion arms outstretched towards the sun.
Wandering too close; wings come undone.
Plummet into the hollow crown; a new age has come.
What they will have of you; they will have of me.
Conscious singularity.
Wave of blood and bone and flesh.
Spy the world’s deathly dance.
Protoplasmic sea come alive in a trance.
Parallel lines of instinctual copulation breeds more than circumstance.
Feel the falling cinders as they sear the skin so vibrant and glistening before the mage’s fire.
Unraveling inhibition; met desire with unmet desire.
As they beg for release they sire upon planes higher than gods amongst men could ever achieve; their love killing like a gun.
Offerings unto the enlightened one.
Six billion arms outstretched towards the sun.
Wandering too close; wings come undone.
Plummet into the hollow crown; a new age has come.
Feeding on the aether of bark and sky and stone.
Eternally connected even if the shell writhes alone.
Extension, tensile distortion, twisting and releasing air within the joints and muscles that ache for romanticized reciprocity.
Screams echo out to fall upon deafened ears at high velocity.
Plaguing me with dreams that jostle me from my sleep.
A widower’s song that stirs emotions buried deep.
They have walked the low valleys and climbed the mountains steep; though the picturesque visions behind their eyes remain incomplete.
Those who walk in shadows of the shunned.
Offerings unto the enlightened one.
Six billion arms outstretched towards the sun.
Wandering too close; wings come undone.
Plummet into the hollow crown; a new age has come.
What they will have of you; they will have of me.
Conscious singularity.
Wave of blood and bone and flesh.
Spy the world’s deathly dance.
What they will have of you; they will have of me.
Protoplasmic sea come alive in a trance.
What they will have of you; they will have of me.
Feel the falling cinders as they sear the skin so vibrant and glistening.
Their love killing like a gun.
Plummet into the hollow crown; a new age has come. –Michael Kabu Ament
STÖK 