Epochate

The flood

Epochate
I feel coming close the essence
Of final judgment
I feel growing up the nonsense
Of goofy idols
Fools admired by the masses
Directing nightmares
Smiling when it’s time to set
People under fire

Above a landscape
Without stripes of ground
A land of drown graves
Buried by the flood
A tainted brown stream
Of souring acid clouds
The reign of brained apes
Unarmed by their maul

Life is coming close the absence
Of any matter
Shore is covered by an ocean
Of rotten icons
Pushing people to the excess
And like an anthem
Full of bitterness the ash
Is the new empire

Above a landscape
Without stripes of ground
A land of drown graves
Buried by the flood
A tainted brown stream
Of souring acid clouds
The reign of brained apes
Unarmed by their maul

And what is after all
The prize we earn
And when the final course
Is getting closer
An howling crowd
Of flaming coals
Will set on fire all the
Arrogance we own.

Above a landscape
Without stripes of ground
A land of drown graves
Buried by the flood
A tainted brown stream
Of souring acid clouds
The reign of brained apes
Unarmed by their maul

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