Besedila: Holy Mountain. Entrails. Plague Bearer.

Every morning born
into a sea of enemies
all buzzing voices
all twisted faces
and all senses under siege
the pedantic and plodding rhythms of everyday
the invasion of cheapness
subversion of meaning
to kill or be killed
no threatening fist could solve it
its presence since the dawn of time
the roiling masses infected with disgust
all of us destroyed and debating reaction
revenge or removal
to a life washed over
and free of question
or a life under siege by
those leaches of the soul
another day hoping to eliminate the need
the plague born of living
the symptoms of the dead
to kill or be killed
the only impedance
the creation out of the recurrent funeral hours
of something new
and not dead
to amass revenge against the dread
an equal response
to rival the decay set upon us
to create a reason to continue
and eliminate the need to die