The time has come
For distant cries to come close,
Until they shall shout and you shall turn deaf
And they shall purge you of the sleep
And they shall create the awareness within you of I.
You are to be the next one to be in the chamber.
The chamber of doom , the chamber which shall make you remember, the chamber of putrid rhyme.
Where the dead are all around. The funeral has reached its summit.
The cries are deafening, Now that it is your time. For what is the joy of dying alone. Take them all of you. Kill ‘em All.
The slight chance that you are at fault is removed the very instant they call out your name.
Its time. To face the Kreator.
So you step inside the mortuary. Its refreshing after the time you have spent with the ‘living’.
The rhyme reaches crescendo . the voice within you is void now.
Void is the power to cleanse. Void is the need and the desire. Void is the disease of want. Void makes the Void. Void is the rhyme and the poison drifts slowly inside and outside.
So when you awake from your sound sleep. Do you realize what has happened. What is now.?
Yes the remembrance is the key . It is knowledge of the void.
The void is here and there . and nowhere .
If it moved slowly it would be slow rhyme. It moves fast and its fast rhyme.
It is the presence of Deja-Vu within you and I . It is the nature of divinity.
It created the mist of forgetful-ness and of consciousness.
The void speaks and is deaf .
The void remains in solitude. And remains not.
It is not to be described. That is the threat to the presence of the void.
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