You are prophets of your own demise As the vastness of hell is expanding in every direction And you follow it with empty hearts, leaving naught unexplored Even against your pretended will And lo! your child-hood fear is the redeemer of the present! The pulse of death is indifferent to all Inhuman, faceless, relentless And you seek freedom therin In a self-imagined importance Kneeling with heads bowed to infertile soil Still you chose to bathe in the excrements of history In the simplicity of hunger, sleep and pro-creation In blindness you deemed Satan comprehensible - Still you can not even see the smallest grain of sand, In this desert of otherworldly misgrowth Where we erase our names from the book of life And let our voices fade into nothingness For what could ever be more beautiful Than the abandonment of it all - In a self-chosen bestial madness? You have known it, but stood in denial of your most vile desires! The construction of the "I" becomes laughable This hunger transcends every human impulse A ray of light in another world raises a shadow in ours And what difference does wisdom or folly make When not even one language is discernible in Babel? A multitude of voices Angelic, demonic, human, and the silent ones Unbidden you stand against in the terrible mess of sound