To have gathered out of the substance of the void
Death, thou art the pure source and negation of all knowledge
Clothed in devoted words unspeakable by living tongues
Die and become!
Die and become, to drink from the Sun
Formless presences return to burn alone
Die and become, to nourish the worms
Die now to return to the tree of life
I walk the path of the dead
Following the scent of an age-long trail of blood
Hidden within a tortured recension of signs, oh close-lipped signs
From an unknown wound, spake the dead of violence near
On a course with no trusted guide, no hope, nor fear,
Nor pride... Nor life...
No glimmer of victory, cold darkness, burning misery
Eyeless I walked this path...
Leaving attributions in dust, to speak in signs
Gaining a tongue known only to those who have died
Dreaming the dream of a thousand dead
All seen by a thousand drops of blood
To have slept, to have seen... seen...
To have become, and begone.... gone...