I am the phantom you please to see
I occurred beside the magic pawn
Ominous, is this fading dawn
I am the scenery, the one who smite
I was always meant to avoid this light
Wisely, I naturally avoided the lash
And escaped what now is laid in ash
You starvers you have seen
Nevermore will you look upon the preen
Illusionary palace, glory in a curl
Wretched faces of a dead world
They, the dust, have now gone.
For the lord of them will be the one
That broke their wings, and kissed their horns
Enslaved, and carrying the burden of the thorns.
Beyond this millennium, and millenniums more
The moving figures, my undressed lust
Their tempting eyes with their silver dust
Mine to behold like the flap of my soul
Dead skin prison.
Dead, stiff, cold.
