Ghosts of porcelain waste

The innocence in faith

Through translucent eyes

In shifting shades of pale upon pale

Writhing across the neverwhere

Haunting reflections of the mirrored void

Is this the end of everything we love?

The wounds of life weaving the loom

Dwellers in the deep… worlds entombed

Of all the fragile, their desolate veins

Ravenous hearts, euphoric suffering

Poison of the well, where the black tongues sing

Intra Venus quickens

A curse of life

Bequeathed, gorging sanguine like cancer

They prey for blood, wretched are the gods

For the stillborn suns of never

They are the severed

The lifeline to end forever

Lanced, earthen flesh of enslavement…intravenous

Descending liquid shadows, all entwining

Their distant sights weaving the loom

Dwellers in the deep... drift below

To the ferryman's drains

Seek a cure for the pain

The end of all we love and lust

In tainted flesh of doubt and corruption

Is it too late? Will death be my lover?

Will death be my lover?

And into ribs... crib, cradled, caressed

A moment between black talons, blessed

Consciousness, a breath... regret

Clarity come forth, is there salvation?

Haunting reflections of the mirrored void

Is this the end of everything we love?

The wounds of life wield the strength to rise

Dwellers in the deep, dream of hope, only hope