The fathoms of truth are where darkness is deep
And triumphant over ideal and intellect
Mesmerizing, paralyzing spirals of fear
They become relief, spirit and belief
Skulls ascend high heaven's eye
Death will receive, drowning pride in grief
Birth will come and tears will dry

Rather hear the ones carrying hearts of no light
For but insects feed on stigmata

They did fall in reverse
And speak their truth in secrecy, with whispered voices, thousandfold
As willfully blindfolded eyes might give weight to the paradox
Some would do well contemplating
The faceless and shapeless state of equilibrium

Learn, while skin dissolves, to deliberate upon the thrice-lettered word
For that which shelters, adulterates, revolves in circles like moths to the flame
To perpetuate the waters transpicuous and shallow
So no one and nothing could ever drown in such constrictive seas

Insignificance becomes breathable
Even when perceived as an ocean
For unconscious focus persists
Until the I becomes a sunken city
Ruins hidden in the cold vast dark

It is through the gaze of the eye
That a face loses substance
Becomes stripped of all expression
Until there is nothing left to hold on to
Maintaining but bones and spirit
Thus essence is cleared of all false constructs
And towers of radiant unidentity emerge from underneath the cloudy surface
To unfold in splendour
And on top there is a crown enthroned
Made out of the remains of one million destroyed personas
Forming Omega