Gamashinoch

Death's trifling and wretched
How anxious staying inacguainted new-warm blood and soft flesh
Being deceased hands dignity for hearse patrol

Animated once for every vividity
Spectating counts what grants only space
Thoroughfares metalled with dreadness

Craving torrents in blood not in cold veins
Cut the arms in art
Carnal awkwarding until the day ends,
shall perish in rack
No dreams for the dead,
shivering for the longing of luminous

Implicted by own piousness
Even questions gnaw sanctimoniousness
For allowing soundscapes depraves this dreadful loveliness