Where All Flesh Is Soil

"The love of life has ceased in thee, Who long hast known this suffering strife; Then come along to rest with me, For Death is better now than life." - Holbein, Dance of Death Cut up your mind, let the river run dry Bleed out, the veils and illusions The sensation of life, diminish in your presence Bleed out, the blade is a key Piercing through the naked flesh Then watching the wounds heal My scars form a map Letters in the native tongue of Hell Where all flesh is soil Where all and everything Ceased to rot It's cold, so cold I keep my ear to the ground, listening to the cries Of all generations, slowly passing by. The truth beyond any language Is the symbol of death Beneath your own skin, a goat skin From the first grave to the last The tomb is a mirror And we are all crippled by life The ethereal paradox But a cenotaph for broken dreams Disinterring the last hope To find a passage through the wound of lies