Shamanic skinchanger shaves away his kin skinsuit
When he swims he’s a shark
When he flies he wears the lark
Whose flightchart makes only dawn
A song sung only in the morning
Haunting mistmistress, the fist of thawing
The bawling of Mephisto at Sol’s kiss
Lost betwixt history and tomorrow’s conflicts
That you missed the time hissing by
Inside the twin triangles, today stick
In your oar and break for the shore
Further from the light than ever before
I walk the abyss, I hear someone calling for
Me as I cross, tortured overtures
What the wages of sin bought you
Aeons in the scorching place
A grave made for creation’s misplaced abominations
South of his most southern station
Where demons make recreation of a person’s annihilation
I create the third way, a swaying bridge to the fray
The frayed edges of sanity, the vain vanquished in hideous agony
Alchemisland 
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