Testo Ophiuchus Rex

I drove down the social spirals Towards inferior eternities Still Clutching the ideal- The masks of fabled greatness Men like gods? Humankind is insignificance Personified Memories fade Burned to death by futurity Legacies vanish Consumed by worms What is a drop to the storm that bursts it? Meaningless wretch of the womb that birthed it My spiral dance complete I hail the rushing earth Ophiuchus... Men like gods (you are weak) Hail the rushing earth Spiral dance complete Hail the rushing earth The inexorable conquest- I stare at my cremation Its yearning, cleansing flames As cinders, ash and dust Become the extent Of my remains...