I am the phantom you please to see

I occurred beside the magic pawn

Ominous, is this fading dawn



I am the scenery, the one who smite

I was always meant to avoid this light

Wisely, I naturally avoided the lash

And escaped what now is laid in ash



You starvers you have seen

Nevermore will you look upon the preen

Illusionary palace, glory in a curl

Wretched faces of a dead world



They, the dust, have now gone.

For the lord of them will be the one

That broke their wings, and kissed their horns

Enslaved, and carrying the burden of the thorns.



Beyond this millennium, and millenniums more

The moving figures, my undressed lust

Their tempting eyes with their silver dust

Mine to behold like the flap of my soul

Dead skin prison.

Dead, stiff, cold.