Dead Men Would Start And

Passionate Grave Thought, Belief Enhanced, Ritual Returned And Magic.

Not God With Wine, Nor Death, Nor Hate For A Cry, But God With A Song

Love That I Bear Within My Breast How Is My Armour Melted How My Heart

Why Wait For Death To Mow? Why Wait For Death To Sow Us In The Ground?

Pompeii Has Nothing To Teach Us, We Know Crack Of Volcanic Fissure, Slow Flow Of Terrible Lava, Pressure On Heart, Lungs, The Brain About To Burst Its Brittle Case (what The Skull Can Endure!)