COGS OF THE VOID.
in templates of disguise,
foreign is the dove-be free and fly,
jump into the fire,
and scream does the phoenix.
torments of time,
voids of crime,
beauty in the eye,
frozen be thy sky.
slow be the ox,
fast is the lunatic a-high;
bedlam my mind.
forever is my breath,
tombs of shadows,
halls of kings,
knights of the realm,
drink of folk-
stories we tell.
cogs of the void,
may i just kiss the sky.
by me. (jamie)