Endowed with the art of casting names upon its beings The humans claimed dominion over every living fucking thing
Proud as purpose as they began to walk the earth as they arraigned The common creatures caught within the corpus cursed, conscious human brain
Every word ever written will fall short of its intent Even sung or spoke or screamed they will betray what they have meant
Language is the heart's lament, a weak attempt to circumvent the loneliness inherent in the search for permanence
All the future ghosts who scratch their names in wet cement Demeaning meaning as they shout out at the emptiness Abstractions are the stake between the anima and animus
Deflesh the word as scourge of human destiny Behold the world in other people, life is clarity