This eerie abode over there

between the firs silent breethes

is my palace, where I rest and lust,

the emerald of the forest, an epoch making castle



This embossed signs on my sinuous arms

shall be the encomium of my victorious acts

balk as they stood at my ablaze hordes

I turned their ground into a mosaic of bloody thorns



I hold the sunbeams like the sky does the moral's world

like mother Earth the penis of father Ouranos

I shout to my creators, "I'm the lord"

and my voice becomes one with the astral vault



In this brimstone dale

where adders etch the skinland deep, yet sweet

I'll crow over my success once more, aye, aye

high in the crescent moon's flourished kingdom never cave in



Those I quoth, those I have done