Beyond the 
Stage where we all meet, the 
Mirages of 
Children Kings, 
Sin Omnium breeds 
Reveries: 
All must be dead, the 
Windmen's lurid 
Masks & hellish 
Laughters. 
Greed Generation 
Zero, Wheels in the 
World Machine, 
Child Emperors 2000 countlessly march to the 
Katalypse. 
When Suicide turns 
Shots & Showers golden in 
Siren Seas and swallowing until we sleep - 
Strangulation 
Alpha With thirteen 
Wounds in every 
Hand we creep the 
Circles for our 
Lord, a burning 
Star for each to gnaw, 
All must be dead except the 
Forests of the strangled 
Necks. And through 
Year-Millions we stray 
Million Manias, a 
Cannibal-Lighthouse was built of our 
Nights. And it drags us towards sweet 
Assnakements through deep 
Gullet-Tunnels with 
Dark on each 
Side. Fornever will a 
Word lament, nor any 
Deeds our 
Feelings show, since somewhen 
Times are sure to come when all is dead, in all 
Directions throttled to the 
Ground.