When the end of the times will come
The fireballs will burn
The wind of the souls will turn.
Back to the ashes,
forgotten, worm-shaped,
we will drink the tears of the falls.
No Mankind to spoil
the Gold Skies
of the Divine Seed;
No Hope;
No Surrenders;
No God for us all.
Just naked rocks
penetrating the holes
of the Holy Waters
making love to the Nothingness.
The birds will have already left for better lands.
Unlike men they will hear the Fatal Dance
echoing austerely from far away
and will fly gracefully singing of a round.
Our winding bodies will fail the eternal Escape
trapped underground to feed the Void.
Once upon a time
humans stumbled
upon the Forces bound.
Once upon a time
Our feet were chained
to the ground.
(VV May 2014)
