Been circling the spread for far too long
When will we ride the wind again
Predicting the march and it’s always wrong
How will we free the flow again
Now unleashed to fill the void with song
Finally, we can begin again


NaaN (Now, always and Never)

Your shadow growing to blacken the sky
Unfilling the vaccum we rotate inside
Your shadow glowing to blacken the sky
Sealed by the heavenly ocean we´ve seen to forget
Your shadow flowing to blacken the sky
In your reflecton I´ll always reside
Your shadow throwing to blacken the ...

Born with clay feet on an earth unsteady
Minds unturned to feed the quagmire
Torn away heat on a dusk already
Bonds untamed to bleed the bonfire
Mourned and prayed bead on a faith non-heady
Cants unsung to free the lost choir


NaaN (Now, always and Never)

That gritty rainbow on a sky to dye
Swinging my heart to the fences I voice a stubborn cry
Til’ my feet sounds like limping scars for those arts
Lacing apart and fourth, your dreams cloud me no more
Still… Silent… I finally speak my own lie
A grittier rainbow ...

Come form. Leave your substance at the threshold.
We live once for twice. The fall and the far out.
Come for all. Let the frequency fear the stronghold.
We die non the wise. The loss and the lifeform.
Come fourth and forever.
Long live the uniform.

NaaN (Now, always and ...

Let no unheard muses call their stages.
Sink them into soundlessness down below.
Take no unsung makers to their pages.
Sink them into uselessness down below.
Grant no untouched prophets for their sages.
Sink them into soulessness down below.
Have no undrawn breathers hale their ages.
Sink them into lifelessness ...

Inhale, the calm of a time now broken
Exhale, the balm of a sinister grave
Inhale, the song of a star awakened
Exhale, the gong of an ominous day
Inhale, the fang of a blood still aching
Exhale, the bang of a beautiful way


NaaN (Now, always and Never)

This sunday's EPIC poem is contributed by DD member TheDeeMan. This is “Beware the Necromancer”: Verse four, by Darryl Hughes aka TheDeeMan

On a vacant black morn, was darkness stillborn, a poor and fatherless bastard.

To swirl in the mass, of hell's foul warpath, and evil redeemed for ...