Circle of self-devouring
Lamentation
Of non existence
Forming the world from chaos
Yet nothing from this can be created
Only d**h
Beyond
Behind
Beneath
The symbol of destruction
Blood from the fall of stars
Into an illuminated sphere
Brings forth the dream of emptiness
Into awareness
From darkness
A light that does not cleanse
A void opening as a wound
From the dying cosmos
From the decaying cosmos
Memories and flesh birth into longing and grief
Gods carved from mind configurations of madness
Time holds no key to the meaning of what is
And of what was
We in the same breath will wisp away
From all things man made
Ouroboros
The eternal return, to what was not
To what is not, to what cannot be
For it never was
All was conceived from oblivion
Before what was to be perceived
And after that which was believed
We in ourselves return to emptiness
Where once creation spread from destructive forge
Now back to those cosmos forced to become an echo
The circle of self-devouring
Flowing fragments of existence
Now Non
As such a thing was always meant to be