The Dead

[Georges]

The Dead
Past the realms and the crystallised rings of the infra red
The Doppler shift, akathisia motions and the murmurings, of all said
Past the eager, wet, saline ferryman and into the regions of the dead
Into the magikal birthplace and land of the fallen and crumpled star
The antithesis of life and compassion, as we have known it, so far

Where the black compression is the death and the death is the living
Where sins are never atoned just petrified and never are forgiving
Past the warning conche bells and trumpets, of the subconscious mind
Into the inner secrets and guardian dragons, that you will certainly, find

Let the fire of their breath, warm the kernel of my imprisoned soul
As the ice of the dark methane giants, slowed me down to a comatose, whole
Where it takes a whole year, for my heart to ignite and beat any life
I wandered aimlessly around my imagined visions of living, love and motivating strife

Lands that have existed since before the beginning of known and recorded time
When man was an embryo that slithered out of the saliva of chemical slime
Was manipulated and genetically changed by Angels, similar to their form
As they fought their battles of duality in heavens that were totally torn
Lands that are impregnated and frozen, in this tight, straight jacket, norm

Where the creations of the myths of beasts and monsters was just an evolution
As the genetics were altered and tumbled towards a more human solution
Watch the crystals of hatred and ice condensed on the silver test chalice
Our hearts are naturally hardened and are sinful and full of malice

Gone was any possible inherited aspect of immortality
As we wrestle and struggle with our own insignificance and mortality
I have trodden about in these earthly fields of learning before, in another form now dead
Past the realms and genomes and frozen rings of the inherited infra red.

Georges.