Nomadic moon was roaming
in the maddened fear of night.
A wordless journey in silent dark.
...
Living on fringe
he was stealing genes.
Fear of rebirth
started a dialogue with death!
...
That grave alchemy
of cold fusion,
of turning mercury into gold,
makes me undone
...
The reverse gravity pulls me
into timelessness,
holds me to become free from tremors.
The truth of zero morality
...
The show is on.
Sedition will play with death now.
Deceitful black knives, white gloves.
No hope, battle lines are drawn.
...
To disconnect oneself
you push apart, from the stasis,
like flesh from the bones.
Coming home becomes dreadful
...
You said it was a sin to trade for the hunger.
I was looking into your eyes,
something was amiss,
tears had become stones.
...
Inadequately the clouds covered the moon
the wind was soft and silky.
The death of shadow was not complete.
Stars had fled from groans of night.
...
Hired time felt that terminal import
was cloaked, and we were not ready
for the consolation.
Our conscience was giving a terrible blow
...