I\'ve run away,
this is when you see the haze
of the ice, trickling off the desert sand,
This is when you grab your arms,
and cross your feet
and hope to fuck that empathy doesn\'t touch you.

There is no escape,
there is no empathy,
there is no apathy,
there is no memory,
there is no face.

No face int he sand to drag you down,
only the random face of decency,
only the boldly chaotic soul of a martyr,
and the truth of a number.

All things exist in chaos,
and all principles exist in order,
from the chaos births a form of order,
and from the oder births chaos.

Repetitive cycles of stigmatic numbers,
cursed cycles of disillusioned thought.
You chose the disciple,
and your catalyst,
now lie in the darkness of your truth,
and suffer.

I want to see you spasm,
and throw yourself to a wall.
I know your hoping for a sort of
spectacle or some kind of Christ conceived
illusion, i know you want to taste the sweet cacti of reassurance,
I can tell you right now,
it doesn\'t exist.

Chaos is, and always will be, the basis for understanding,
chaos can never be experienced or witnessed,
it is simply accepted.

Divinity in the face of an hourglass.

Run to divinity,
dumb fuck martyr,
allow yourself to witness sanctity,
I give you 3.14 seconds to witness the truth,
before the glass runs out and...

This is where it starts,
against the sheets,
within an hourglass.

Chaos is random conception,
random birth, random knowledge,
truth, is the face of god,
and divinity will break you.

To taste the wine of divinity,
you must let transcend beyond this plane,
and witness the truth of the ego.

To taste the wine,
witness the fruit

I MANI PORVE ESCOMBRAE