Eschatological

Earth... Another perfect form
The spiral satellite of the sun
Consciousness forlorn
Upon it's face-
Race, divinities perverse
With lancet which's my eyes to incise
In dance post-mortem rise!
Chanted once affairs of my kind
Pouring torrent
Filtering though the rpizm-perception of
Planet torment
Knowledge, experience redeemed...
ââ,¬Â¦ Dream ââ,¬Â¦
Deep in it's dreams embers we are
Sparks, extinguished on blowing ear
Food for the lowest sinister art
Mere mortal and ephemeral
Beasts... Thus primal passions guide
Downfall to ferity; never more
Innocent my pride