we find our selves in molten magma

our souls scorched

and our ears ringing in strange laughter

its the passion we are all after

to posses something greater than our means

that means more than our being

believing we are able of achieving

divine insight

truths in a world littered in fiction

words that starve cold

alone on midnights streets

smoking cigarets

shivering like silver

with a head as heavy as lead

the dead houses

behind thorny bushes

with no rosses

waiting for an apcolypse

to touch these lips

in one forbidden

time erasing moment

we pass like neutrons

with physics

being split

into atomic chaos

energy equales mass crisis

squared