Monuments of It's Own Magnificence - Nightfall

Those dying lips, approval of this miserable world

Those fleshy highfalutin' lines that sing for me

And the untouchable ones

Send me in the globetrotter skies, don’t hinder me

There shall I build my own dreams again

Above clouded tombs and mourning ladies

Above your poor world of dispare Ascent…

The hemlock turns to hemp

And my heartburn into hellish headwind

Yet, through my highness I try to hex

Thou, thou world, thou dreams, thou nest

Thou clef before the keyhole to eternity…

…cloudburst our tears are as our mother’s mitre dries under the

Indomitable sun