The Grotesque Illusion of Being

Footprints from the past, slowly covered in dust Scorching echoes and voices of a time gone by Crippled and broken, lost along the way Still dreaming or drowning Tell me, what have I become? A glimpse of light is burning my flesh The innocent are cursed We are marching into oblivion Betrayed by infinity The illusion of time, the illusion of being Seduced by the grotesque