Her indomitable tendrils persisted
Twisting; weaving to recover her nature;
Her pristine floras.
The brutal unstained obelisk left standing
Stained and strained by avarice.
“More heads, more heads; sacrifice!”
The storms came in a rage
And the skies darkened all eyes
Except the third – for it is a seer.
What is language without thought;
Life without blood;
Breath without air?
And in the vase of nothingness
There is an ossuary of manic manifests -
There, and only there - is the dark gnosis.
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