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All of them sweet little lambs

end up as deaf stray dogs

Chasing their tails tirelessly

barking up the wrong tree

Living in fear to leave in fear

pissing their dens, whining holy hymns

Hello death

I'm back

No place like home

Grave sweet grave

Inquisitive philosophers

Influencers and followers

Fat bishops and their golden rings

Skinny thieves with all gold teeth

Bridges, churches and dollhouses

Emptiness swallows everything

Hello death

I'm back

No place like home

Grave sweet grave

Moth fluttering around the candle

loves light but fears the heat

and yet the flame is inevitable

You can run but you can't hide

You can pray but why waste time

You're born, you blink and then you die

I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat*.

*Joseph Conrad – Heart of Darkness