As in antique ages when Conquering spirits usurped religious masks So as to bind our goddesses below an Orchic floor of chaos, Modern Enlightenment has magically reasoned us into A technocratic prison, has Repressed our imaginative facultes, chained them to a dull precipace, Like a cosmic-blind, overstimulated Prometheus.
Truth is a bottomless depth Destined like the volcanoes of prehistory To break on through its finite latitude And rain down upon our minds the vast emptiness of sky Self-contained within its Klein Bottle topography.
At the point Of origin lies Recurrence An unmasking of the essential Inversion of genesis Contriving illusionary Dichotomies out of beginings and ends.
No stranger life than this alone Do I claim to have known But for the wispy trace of sense Made concrete in madness Sunk below oppresive Reason dictating how to live Murky where the Lethe lies.
When coerced into acceptance of forced Oneness We engage in the infernal worship Of whomever for this fleeting moment On the throne of Power sits enshrined.