I’ve fallen victim of the aspects of this alembicated theogony
Prisoned between the texture and tone of this hypnotic polyphony
Behind the counterpoint there’s a secret left to be unraveled
Hidden is the blood bathed instrument, in which we are modeled.

The harmony and the melody being played got me all tangled
Like the feeble children of Hamelin, I beg blindly to follow
When crossing both circles, the omphalos, the experience’s spiritual
To think they’re just thermionic waves in motion being contrapuntal.

Left but marveled and dazed by this convoluted but delightful outcome
I leave the umbra of the beast to wherever it may choose to roam
May the specter of my own shine beneath the parsimonious heart
For since the beginning of ages, we were never meant to be apart.


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