‘‘Void, through kaleidoskope eyes Reveals no earthly reflection Shining Black, Shining white in the Spheres of finite perception Bounded by flesh in theory Unleashed through great words of wisdom Emptiness clings to logical rules A Void that was born of reason’’
‘‘There is no Image, nor shape nor form Just Tracts of flesh slumbering deeper and deeper IN BROAD DAYLIGHT MISANTHROPY Void is crowned the Victor’’
‘‘I doubt there was ever a temple No force behind colours, no magic Collective bliss, the absolute peace In Broad daylight Deceit’’
Hail the hollow BODY BELIEF! Hail the fake Clever Design!’’ Coiled the pitch black NOTHING Blooms in the king’s Misanthropy ...A Wounded wolf, the once gracious Descarte a devoted servant of reason had now realised this world won’t ever change the Empire of Mind is Utopian