I have discarded my sight.
The lotus has spurned the crown.
My sinew wanes with Ashtoreth.
Crawling upon bloody limbs,
across the sweating oasis,
into the star of Nemesis.

To conquer the lowness
to which I suffer,
may I know the beasts of my mind.
May I be what I was born,
but more. May I sail
through the Fields of the Tuat,
evolved to perceive!

The aeons of me flourish,
though the vessels change.
The clamor in the bond of bonds.
Essence placed to its dominion,
upon the orb, breathing,
moving beneath the canopy:

singularity!