Dust of century.

A scourge in time
with a bond of destruction
And vanity, forged in the depths of inner sin
Ego seeks self destruction
In all things found and endured.
The ego must die within morality
No self, no spirit, no being
Unbound by static form
In madness.
Where you came
a putrid drop
turns into a storm
The fire engulfs the soul.
The limitless, everlasting melancholy.
And the minds vessel
To the becoming of dust.