Wormhole
BrachiosaurideBrane
Mute
Ollin
The speed of the light to a distant star
Residing inside of a hollow high-mass
The sun disappeared from the heavens
On its nightly pilgrim through the reference frame
The violence of pain and a sense of departure
Deeper down into its darkest flood
Fain
Propulsion
Plethora
Time perception
The hour-hand moved on, the timepiece drew breath
As the murmuring dwarf squatted the eternal
All truth is crooked, time itself is a circle
Following his footsteps to the sun
Lorn in the aeon of macrocosm
I see them run into the sinus of asininity
Gods blockade their eternity
Where do I run with this pain of mine
Lake of lies is turning to a sea
I see the shepherd howl, writhing, choking inside
With a black serpent hanging out of his mouth
I failed to pull the serpent out of his throat
My horror, my hatred, my loathing, my pity
Sky illuminated by the sun, Huitzilopochtli
Tunneling dilation, photonic crystaline
Nebulous terror within the nature
Darkly feared within all the mortals
Spectres of malign perversions
Floating through moonless crypts of mine
Far away inside the luminous loopholes
Shakenings tell the winds of zenith
Yonder where the storms rush down in sea
Colossal roots of the hoary earth