Beyond the Stage where we all meet,

the Mirages of Children Kings,

Sin Omnium breeds Reveries:

All must be dead,

the Windmen's lurid Masks & hellish Laughters.



Greed Generation Zero, Wheels in the World Machine,

Child Emperors 2000 countlessly march to the Katalypse.



When Suicide turns Shots & Showers golden in Siren Seas

and swallowing until we sleep - Strangulation Alpha



With thirteen Wounds in every Hand

we creep the Circles for our Lord,

a burning Star for each to gnaw,

All must be dead

except the Forests of the strangled Necks.



And through Year-Millions we stray Million Manias,

a Cannibal-Lighthouse was built of our Nights.

And it drags us towards sweet Assnakements

through deep Gullet-Tunnels with Dark on each Side.



Fornever will a Word lament,

nor any Deeds our Feelings show,

since somewhen Times are sure to come

when all is dead,

in all Directions throttled to the Ground.