The Tome

MIDNIGHT TIMES | THE TOME | EPIC CAFÉ | WEBHEAD

WASTELAND

I. OMNIS IN MORTE VIVIMUS

(The Eternal Dream)
Lie here with me a little while
upon this ancient hill that looks
across the years of bitterness
beyond the valley of distress
before I slip into the night
and I'll describe the dreams that haunt
my memories and burn my mind
this shadow of my former life
a depth below the frozen night
so cold and lonely nothing lives
except black ice that flows like death
despondent glaciers carving paths
of sadness leading to the heart
this is my crumbling citadel
bleak towers etch the midnight sky
and far beneath the jagged cliffs
stretch aimless dungeons of darkness
lost happiness and lasting pain
a dismal place of waste and shame
a dungeon horrid all around
and further down volcanic rock
a molten flow of black basalt
that burns with flames of dark midnight
revealing only scenes of woe
regions of sorrow doleful shades
a place where only hell can live
or Satan tortures without end
a mad and twisting labyrinth
where long lost hopes and dreams still drift
through moaning windy caverns old
and chasms echo hollow sounds
of desolation floating down
like whispered words and secret thoughts
of self-destruction running deep
as poison rivers winding free
to this polluted sea of dreams
I've crossed by ghostly haunted ship
that makes a hellish midnight trip
manned by spirits lost to this depth
despair my crew has me repressed
they've tied me to a wooden mast
a blood stained cross a hellish mass
of skeletons ignore my cries
and treat me like an undead corpse
lured by mystic songs of death the
siren's misconceptions sweetly
sing of dreadful daylight dreams while
violent waves storm swirling seas
and twisted memories float by
this wreckage of my dark desires
stark images before my eyes
mock torn beliefs and lies I hide
behind a mortal shell of hope
obscured by dark intentions lost
with all the other empty schemes
immortal minds that always feed
this longing for eternal rest
each morning I lay down like death
Apollo drives his golden cart
etched with hellish flames across the
land of dead inside my head the
searing heat that blasts my mind and
forgotten times so long ago
it slips into this darkened hole
through narrow cracks the mental mole
that chews on dirt grows thick like mold
and distant memories infest
the painful thoughts my heart rejects
unholy slave of darkness life's
a thin disguise for emptiness
subconscious lies wrapped up in mist
a veil of time that I have spent
asleep on velvet coffin beds
the lid shut tight against heaven
and sleeping 'til the shadows call
to me like words that spiral down
amidst unholy fires of hell
then screaming from the mental plight
the sunset dies and I arise
to wander through immortal years
that melt before my eyes like ice
dissolving pools of cool moonlight
a midnight shade reflects the sun
I'll never see again.

"Wasteland" - Table of Contents

GATEWAY | LOBBY | MAIN CHAMBER | CONTENTS | INDEX