Ægean

A silent walk, as in ancient Rome;

Yellow leaves in humid air

Tint the sunlight yellow, it is about to rain-

Elohim sighs, knowing that he won't be there. 

One step back, two steps in front, 

A pawn moving on a mobiüs strip;

Medusa whines, and a new chasm opens, 

Elohim can't help but notice. 

A million furnaces, like caleidoscopes, 

God's sweat, now smelling foul, 

Makes Elohim wince, the flames lick his feet-

The prodigal son now knows what this is about. 

Elohim clenches jaw, squints eyes, tastes death, 

Our homemade purgatory respects him. 

The ocean sand, the murky earth, 

Brings him back to hell, straight from the dream.