Amarta

A strain of DNA a force reckoned and dissolved Chain of curses, now solitude
The circle casted not broken Lanced into the shell
The pinpoint of senses a restless collection of feeling dying slowly,
changing into astral form Beyond the veil we can only recollect
The cycle never speaks through memories, visions or feelings
The head of the serpent is mute Destined to a lie of conformit, that which
blashes the senses into numbness
There is so little experienced Within the playground of life. Within the hide we
shall die throughout the skin we shall stretch Blood shall stain our past as
ashes illuminate the night over the pyre!
A gnosis of reflection To scry into the abyss It is in the depths of loss Where
all is gained Dessecration of the ego may the virtue set unto flames
Consecration of the spirit as birth to ressurect Shine upon me
Oh light of a thousand candles, cascade upon me
Oh water of a thousand rivers Bestow upon me
Oh knowledge of the immortal Exalt me
Air of the 4 winds within the 8 pointed star!