IRC-Galleria

in these days
we win things
of octagonal, all-angled all
or lose nothing
nothing at all
yet we have all the time
which now is not needed
all that is nothing
we never needed it

we're never there
strange travellers

but like the sun
it came back to us
like the moon
it turned it's back on us

the seed of the blessed no
the blossoming empty saying yes
to the all-eyes-open
all fucking walls that bend down
in front of the all-fucking-eye

i bend down in front of the lost soul
the king with no face
she, the beauty of the frozen sky
she, the cloaked reflect of the broken sun
she is the flame of ice
she is the flame that burns
all that wants to burn
and all wants to burn
all wants to burn
all that desires
all wants to burn
all that covets,
rejoices
and regrets
wants to burn

the all that is the flame!
the all that is the flame!
the all that is the flame!
the all that is the flame!