Twisitng wisps of smoke
Soaring like eagles
Inside my resting head
With endless thrashing
Accompanied with sweat and fear
Waking in a darkened room
With an acute sense of paranoia
Necrophobic
Watching the molding of time
Confusing reality with tragedy
Watching destruction ride
Down the road of degradation
Holding on white knuckled
With the fine articulation of the veins
Inside the smooth crimson hands
The creator and destroyer
Merely by the whim of change
Of impotent irrationality
The great death machine
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