02-03-2014, 02:59 PM
Darkness bore the land, fertile and dank:
A cavernous tomb with potential and waste.
Yet life is suspended in crypts far below,
Where blood will run free and to other worlds flow.
No place more secure in the world exists: in life, in thought – in bliss;
For one of the three may reside in this land:
A graveyard in cycle with the turn of a hand.
One day a great force will split open the sky,
And down from above with a thunderous cry,
Sin will be seen for the very first time
By the land that was pure in its stillness and prime,
Followed by rain like the showers of spring,
Not promising much, but surely the same:
Flowers will grow and a fruit they will bare,
So sweet to the taste that only one dares.
For the origin of dreams do lie in the seeds,
Writhing and seething ‘til life gives release.
Thus pain is born, and happiness too;
I reckon that many prefer the dark tombs.
A cavernous tomb with potential and waste.
Yet life is suspended in crypts far below,
Where blood will run free and to other worlds flow.
No place more secure in the world exists: in life, in thought – in bliss;
For one of the three may reside in this land:
A graveyard in cycle with the turn of a hand.
One day a great force will split open the sky,
And down from above with a thunderous cry,
Sin will be seen for the very first time
By the land that was pure in its stillness and prime,
Followed by rain like the showers of spring,
Not promising much, but surely the same:
Flowers will grow and a fruit they will bare,
So sweet to the taste that only one dares.
For the origin of dreams do lie in the seeds,
Writhing and seething ‘til life gives release.
Thus pain is born, and happiness too;
I reckon that many prefer the dark tombs.