Phantom Logic (2003/01/13).

You have it, open: Pearl gates of madness, guarded by winged phantoms Inscribed in the testament of Set False voices in the darkness Resound like the grandest symphonies Invisible, hostile friends pointing the way I listened… Written in the testament of Set

Fragments of childhood frozen When closed eyes gaze into the future…

To drown in the city lights: Cascades of raging blood and semen Monuments of lust and power, obscene megalomaniacs Sulfurous splendor cloaks the void, enters it Brutally, admitting no resistance… And overwhelms it, forging murderous constructions They will not fall, inscribed in my skull

The stench of pleasure, screams, damnation among the tallest trees Children of the mountains, furred in caves, mothers of paranoia Spread a silk cloth So golden chalices and golden plates may be filled with song A hymn of rot…

It turns me into a machine, I do not resist The beauty of cold emptiness and logic — oh how easy, how wondrous The last flashes of reason Everything fades, leaving no memory Mute purity, unspoken and unfelt joy Born of the impossibility of showing joy