...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 fucking 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)]