| Factitious mountains crown the plains
|
| Yersinian symptoms sprawl like blains
|
| Inversely proportional is kin to ken
|
| The mature ΧΑΛΚΙΟΙΚΟΣ became like men
|
| I call the blacksmith not to fade
|
| Reside in patience on 11th grade
|
| The iron era is yours to win
|
| Mount the skylines an spawn your kin
|
| Adamantine flush affects all veins
|
| It is no longer mortal life that reigns
|
| The magma core inside the termite hill
|
| The gift of matter is open still
|
| Downwards our deeds aspire
|
| Upwards is our mind’s desire
|
| Sidewards through eternal shadows of blue
|
| Backwards into blur without any clue
|
| Down below the marrow’s arid crust
|
| Earthly veins get parched by rust
|
| A hidden apprehension’s germination
|
| The final seal if man’s determination
|
| The more, the closer — the marrow got rude
|
| An odd magnetism of solitude
|
| While identity is made by alien reflection
|
| I relocate my dot within the matrix section
|
| Urban rooting without pullulation
|
| A thousand strangers called «population»
|
| Lone wolf temper within scores of sheep
|
| The pool we’re drowning in will never seep
|
| So I long for the roots of my city, so I dig for the origin ground
|
| Where the lupa proved the triumph of pity
|
| Lies a reason for that place to found
|
| Birth-giver equals live-taker equals peacemaker equals god
|
| Bone-setter equals life-fetter equals root-digger versus god
|
| I will cure the plague by now — I will find myself somehow
|
| Let me set this world aflame — down is up and you’re to blame |