Path Of Golconda Catafalque
This dry massacre to crack her and shatter
her ruby tears that sever -or better - forget her
Yes, I had the choice of murder
Yes, I chose to be at war with God...
- but from the start I lost...
Beat the Devil´s tattoo over the quicksand of your life
Meet the shores your verses line, and hopes, so well defined
And down your throat, no antidote will fight the fire there
Only higher flames aspire on drama and despair -
-Lose yourself -
my parole mocked my tongue
Pleased myself,
sought control in her song
Balletal, skeletal grace surround her
Excite a younger soul to an ivory sceptre
( a whirl of regal spine and a delicate minor)
from the fecund abyss where her heart stroke the bell
with her dulcimer throbs as a foreboding of Hell?
So I learned I will be fading
long before I´m gone
In her eyes the mourning prayers
that to the erudite dead belong
Catafalque
No perfect wave, no ancient grave ordain those feline ghosts
That whisper racked to me, in rags, truth´s overdose
We have all grown old
but what have we sold
what treasures, promised pleasures
have we spilled in vain?
Like the wine we praised as manna
or our morbid diorama
as we died a thousand deaths, faced the gold-cage of tristesse
and more sombre panorama but revived again
No! Never so lost now
No! Never so lost?
Now the die fell on you
Bitter pills to consume served on a dagger
Forever
Sealing Neverland´s tomb
Plundering Venus´ womb
Somewhere the fog is rising
contouring elder terror in the minds of man
suspended strength, so soon declining
filled my books on hate with life again...