What has come to be
will forever repeat

Another cyclic dusk
another cyclic dawn
and everything is
as it was before

Here we stand
at the eve of doom
but who are we to deem
the ancients' legacy to be true?
Misread prophecies
complemented with utter fallacies
The future seen with tightly shut eyes
The Eschatologist's morbid dream
to see the sign of the serpentarius
rise high above the burning skies
unleashing the wrath of Quetzalcoatl

The factual wisdom
of past aeons
dragged through the dirt
by simpletons
The colossi of history
burid under mountains of madness
The astrologist's new vision
the sacrifice of nine eleven
calling forth the arrival of Nibiru
as intended by the thirteenth serpent

As one cycle ends,
another begins
living day-by-day
instead of awaiting the end
A myriad of decimations
never coming true
No farewells on this eve
instead welcoming the next day

Another cyclic dusk
another cyclic dawn
and everything will
remain as it has been
As the ouroboric shapes
slowly take form
ensnaring themselves
in an eternal oscillation