Death Is the Martyr of Beauty

Drunk with the nectar Of submission I feel nothing more Than existence A loneliness That will not Come off In the narcissism Of the harbour We are lost Vaster then night My pride My Threat My thrust This is beyond very fond All this is beyond Is this the final exorcism? Of an obsession In the obsession? Swept clean of the past And its errors Shall we take new roads We shall take new roads Look. Lost. Vast night Tearing and loathing Thrashing without you To the church of tomorrow Death Is The Martyr Of Beauty Look, kere is our runic wreath Look here!