Genesis

The birth of man was the birth of Hell

The wrathful flames dance around my head

Falling figures, burning dead

A well once filled with flowing water

Now an endless tunnel of hate and squalor

Covered, once, with locks of hair

All burned off, to leave me bare

A hand that once reached out to feel

Now gropes about for something real

I try to hold onto what I've found

But the heat of the touch melts all to the ground

Pulling back, Inside my head

I watch for hours, the listless dead

From my hear flows the tears

Giving no life to that which is seared

I wait for the day when only ashes appear

Nothing gained--and no more fear

And once again I will be pure