In Flames Gyroscope
Geology is digging through my brain a manta engulfing the world to throw it up once again to a guild of a lifted dagger Neo-wolf but older again than the Lupus itself linked its fur to the gyroscope of time a collection of failures A diabolical sequences of stabs written in cunning stone from the fossilised of thieves our lives dies I see the nursing all-mother spitting out a trail of termites in the mouth of her first-born hope breast ripe with smog-filled rebellion Apathy dressed in violence white insectoid legs curse her lips and mouth receptive only to pain
