Miasma

Let them have their final martyriumLet them come with spear and lanceLet them impaleWhen all is gone anywayLet them come with a greater smileWhen all is over anywayHail miasmaReigning and raging and rainingLeaving reality behindEverywhereThere once was a colourIn galaxies blindingGiving them a chance to foreseeThere once was a circleBehaving like insects in websPossessed by willNot dead yetThere once was a fieldIn a desolate nationA field with space for millions to comeThere once was a funeralWith a guidance to understand