Skagos
Anamnesis II: A Dry, Sterile Thunder, Without Rain
...And the feeling body shudders and lurches on the edge Quaking with dead inertia- a caged oak suppressed from the instant that seed took root in earth the promised of a monolith. All I see are saplings shackled to stone a genocide of all we've sown. I am waiting for the great abate Thunder claps, but no water falls. Thunder claps, and no water will fall. Shattered Ouroboros: I feel the mountain within; the sea, the soil, the sky; Suffocating under ten-millennia coil: Shattered Ouroboros. I call thee, hark... Devoid of metamorphosis, twisted larvae starve. Megaflora extinction, an era of gynocide. I call thee, hark Ares! I call thee, hark... Apocalyptic atavism! "Here, one can neither stand, nor lie, nor sit. There is not even silence in the mountains, but dry, sterile thunder, without rain." I await the flood in rusting chains, for a fertile thunder that reeks of rain.
From Letras Mania