Is it what it all comes down to?
Is it what it all ever contained?
The seeds of destruction mature
Now when the hatred rains
Spiraling inside the endless vortex
Forever drowning further within
Yet it remains an optical illusion
The nausea of eternity ad infinitum
Buried deep inside, immovable, I ask
At which step I should have refrained?
As the solar question burns my skin
Till how long will this thing remain?