Thoughts migrate nowhere, sullen birds of prey Swallowed by jet black dreams of death in foul slumber. A world beyond affliction; When the calling lulls us unto our infinite beds And the droning pulse of nihilism mocks us From across lightless fissures of consciousness. Writhing... Burning Alive only to host this Stygian torment Pitied we are When deep sleep falls upon mankind. Hopeless, we fall Into the fathomless depths of this virulent dream. And from the haunted arms of Morpheus, We arise to a different despair.