Ice Ages. Strike The Ground. Transparent Dreams. Zeneszám

Sea of chaos, electric mist
A dark sky calling, a cloud of dust
Boiling magma, darkified
A veil of liquid, transparent dreams

I stand a lone among this chaos
A grain of eternal sand
I scream for others but find myself alone
There is no comfort on this planet.

I dream I drift alone
From the sky like lightning bolts.
A hand of ice my only hope.
Sinking quickly, I am alone
I cannot breath - my sight grows dim

[by Ray Wells]