This Earthly Realm

The sum of lackluster wills

Fashionably undone

Ever soothing our ills,

Seekers of fun

From truth we run

In false light – repair

Subject to the baron,

Of the power of the air

It’s pride that kills

Second to none,

Oh the chills

Have just begun

At the point of a gun

Thus we despair

Subject to the baron,

Of the power of the air

Receding from the hills

Sure to be overrun

And the chasm fills

One by one,

A fallen legion,

Trapped in the snare,

Subject to the baron,

Of the power of the air

Yet there is a scission

Most are not aware

Subject to the baron,

Of the power of the air

The Earthly Throne

Inside your mind,

The terror awaits

You’re left behind

Liege inborn states

Take pleasure in escapes,

Deep is my shadow

Dark amorphous shapes

My trail you will follow

A contract – signed

Closed are the gates

Without end – aligned,

The feeble psyche fabricates,

Descendant of primates?

Perceptions ring hollow

In desperate straits,

My trail you will follow

Leading the blind

With obscure mandates

Forever intertwined,

A horde of inebriates

My lie intoxicates

Take another swallow

And the crisis conflates

My trail you will follow

And the ritual consummates

Bringing all low

An army of deviates

My trail you will follow

Preordained

Know all your fears

Cause they’re all mine

Awash in tears

In due time,

Partner in crime

For you I lust

By immutable design,

Return to dust

Grind the gears

Seek the sign

Pass the years

Doing time

The walls you climb

Utterly nonplussed,

Apart from the vine,

Return to dust

Closed, dull ears

Can’t hear the sublime

The shadow steers

Towards a new paradigm

An overcast clime

Breach of trust

Soiled with grime

Return to dust

The clock will chime

Who is just?

Past your prime,

Return to dust

Languorous

A permeating sound

The Prince of the air

Dark images abound

While blind eyes stare

Beyond the glare

Lies a false light

Need not despair

No need to fight

Held spellbound

Without a care

Liege shadows surround

And close the snare

Without fan fare

Taking flight,

An ensuing nightmare,

No need to fight

Lost and not found

Forever elsewhere

Whirling around,

Without a prayer,

One to declare,

There’s no wrong or right

In the dragon’s lair

No need to fight

A hideous affair

Wallowing in blight,

Sink into the chair

No need to fight