beneath your stream of words
your rapid stream of words
from which your picture fell
Re-seal the components from atom
Revert, non-owner of worlds
As uncommunication becomes the manifest
our alien, architectural skeletons
Death rode these silent caravans
and steered tem to the rim of the
Their diaries and withered letters
all devoted to the art of dying
the crafts held in our hands
all devoted to the art of dying
drenched in chameleon-ink
The tongues that burn in you
the slowly altered language
that colonised your heartland
advanced through broken doors
And they still believe in you
hooked in your pestilent eye
Your stale lids, your iris punctured
The enterprise, wolvenlore
plunged through the tunnels of
We reach out to move the landmark,
hands seeping down from the chronicles
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