---

Plunged into mad lanes of the cold wind in labyrinths of horrors

From the south of the river where old dreams were buried for centuries

A flash staggered out of my sight and seen still burrowed onward in the night

Cracking the sound in chimes

When the elders in their greyhair croaked in great and terrifying fears

What was lurking  till the black soul loomed ahead

Seeing the way that the seed of men was runing dead

Dying fetus spread out as sand, under stars obscured by the dirty men

Out of a pharos in a tower of stone, there shoot dusk the beam of the dark

Where the elder was living all alone, talking to chaos in rithym of the drums

Through a mirror came whispers and dark oaths, of a creature and time unknow

The thing that whispers was wearing a mask, made of skin of a dead

A face from this earth not, so forbidden to be mention loud

Nightmarish dark visions, recreating deformed creatures

Bright clusters of the dimensioned space, where time and matter stretched away

Chaos without form takes place, in the vast multitude of darkness face

I dreamed things but not understood, always in shapeless vórtices are shown

In a cracked dome by a monstrous paw, gives each frail the cosmos eternal law

A lost world floating dimly on time’s stream, often seen as a misted dark dream

Strange towers and curious lapping rivers, shimmering at the vague deep visions

Through labyrinths and low vaults of light, I crossed the flames in a winter’s night

I see great moors to sedgy shores unpeopled, where vast truths remain unfilled