Pains of the Immortal

A snake devouring its own tail
represents the dawn of this new age,
an age in which man is surrounded
by his own metallic conformity

We rise from an age of steel of our own creation.
All things blue have been erased by red
The creation of life is no longer water, but a desert
Life is no longer love, but pain
All wish to leave the snake and its crushing grip,
But there is no escape from the snake,
For we are the snake.
Life is no longer a circle, but a line
With no penetration by the arrow of death.

The metal encases us in an iron case.
We only follow the scroll.
The scroll is life.
We must rise from the ashes
to save our souls

Find more by Martin Tomlinson in the Author Index.

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