Hollowed by the pain,   I feel the rage coming in   Suffocating waves.      As a wreck in the streams of my bloodied kin's blood,   I dreamt of timessaturnine when the festring might   Enflamed our hearts to the point where the lacerating   Was a joy...   It was a joy!   And then, whenthe Vision's gone   And Death's unformed,   I am torn.      Our eyes are enslaved by the sight of the pyres,   Cast under the yoke of our own death.      Uttermost the drugs that have led us thus far   The eyes, the poison, the vision, the might,   But still we dont probe the silence.   Here I am rolled and rolled by the stream.   The state of foam,   The moaning of the winds.      Over the cracked roads,   Through the reeds   Of the marches,   Hollow voices blow   And the leaves   Bow down to   Other masters.