What have I wrought?

What power, what clarity surrendered?

Love has consumed me

And I thought it love

In some wyvern form that I'd consumed

As Mobius in torment

Makes no movements, makes no sounds

Does not open eyes

This recursive nightmare

A vertiginous haunting

Slick with fear, dumb with pain

To pleasure numb

And passion?

The contrapasso

For an ouroboric appetite

The all is one in punishment

And funeral rites. Yet I'm crying

“Still alive!” Out from this casket

No one hears

Eternal lethargy

Is not the peace I seek

This fog will never lift

I'm imprisoned in a shell of me

A petrified facsimile

Have his family come to see him?

I'm the living mausoleum

Out of body, out of time

A vulture perched upon the shrine

To Promethean ambiguity;

Contorting in perpetuity

Solo: Naut

The cycle starts anew

A vision, quest or dream of fever?

The grey sun will never set

Hermetic force

Where was the presence of the master?

Upon the empire of dread

While there's still fight, an ounce of strength

I'll rage against the ever-burning

Light of pain. I'll make torture my domain

I do not go gentle into that endless night

Whence came the curse of flesh to life

Now reduced to memory

Contorting in perpetuity

How many moons abhor the light

Of their elder stars despite

Counting endless aeons in Harut's domain

Only to find their own delusions still inspire disdain?