From The Negative Veils

Materia Prima (EUA)

Compositor: Não Disponível

I dread not the fruits of thought
That await me in the aether.
The sugar, the vinegar,
The flood of quintessence.
To hide, dissolve, emerge
From quiescence.

Across the veils the i wakes,
And infinity observes
The giver offer, the taker receive.
Pure life awakened!

Upon each plane the time waits,
All dimensions never
Halting transformation.
Pure form arisen!

The idea is the specter
Crossing into matter's realm.
The silence, the summoning,
The ascension of essence.
To know, constrain, advance
With my presence.