elysium…
I walk down dank moldering paths
across the ocean streams
past the black rock to
the sun’s west gate
surrendering myself to reality
awaking to the burn-out-wraiths
of houses I built
feeling the memories of the dead and dying
self imposed, self defeating, self deposed…
surrendering my manliness to the four winds
swept up as to shed the burden with ease
elysium, sweet elysium
you sought me…
bold heresy kept me distant to your breast,
ready to suckle, but blinded by balanced scales
speak to me again, again, again…
do not stop until my ears bleed from the depth!
new raw clay to a molder’s hand
I am the artist -
oh sweet elysium, say it again…
Elysium, Sweet, Sweet Elysium
the clay is forming,
say it again.
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