Ghosts of porcelain waste The innocence in faith Through translucent eyes In shifting shades of pale upon pale Writhing across the never, neverwhere Haunting reflections of the mirrored void Is this the end of everything we love? The wounds of life weaving the loom Dwellers in the deep, worlds entombed Of all the fragile, their desolate veins Ravenous hearts, euphoric suffering Poison of the well, where the black tongues sing Intra Venus quickens A curse of life Bequeathed, gorging, sanguine like cancer They prey for blood, wretched are the gods For the stillborn suns of never They are the severed The lifeline to end forever Lanced, earthen flesh of enslavement... intravenous Descending liquid shadows, all entwining Their distant sights weaving the loom Dwellers in the deep, drift below To the ferryman's drains Seek, seek a cure for the pain The end of all we love and lust In tainted flesh of doubt and corruption Is it too late? Will death be my lover? Will death be my lover? And into ribs... crib, cradled, caressed A moment between black talons, blessed Consciousness, a breath... regret Clarity come forth, is there salvation? Haunting reflections of the mirrored void Is this the end of everything we love? The wounds of life wield the strength to rise Dwellers in the deep, dream of hope, only hope