You will not be able to eat or drink Your eyes will be shining in darkness And decoying nocturnal insects A hungry rat will settle in your stomach Hair will start to shoot sparks and pull dust near like old Books The head will be filled with larvae of dirty thoughts Which be drawing the rest of reason Your hands, like tentacles of darkness, will clench on the Throat of Ordinariness Fire will blaze in blood and digest your hypocritical soul The eyes will look beyond the horizon of the last day Of the in world You will stand rooted to the spot And soon become a onument You will know then That you are helpless for good In relation to the pedestal of the new age