...It was not long ago when I had fallen from this mortal world,
Lost in dream flight to pierce the horizon as a
bird...
Is this life the pillor I must bear?
To grow in this wretched world?
...With hate each day I burn...
The birds
above, they ride the winds
And from each piercing talon dangles a soul
The stone awaits my fall
Upon a grave I dug
myself
The birds sing their requiems
Please lend me your wisdom to fly above the heavens,
Across seas of gold, to my land of
frostbitten, ageless night
Let me dig my own grave
Let me, oh precious noose of mine
You are my mother, whose womb around my
neck
Grants me a world of cold nihility
An endless winter night
A bitter, black frozen hell
For me
Forever!
Is this
the pillor I must bear?
To die on this f*****g world?
...With hate I die and burn...
The birds above, they caress the
winds
They lend me the wisdom to fly...
[Written by J. Haughm ('97)]