The Crossroads

A while back I merged a massive wave of depression with some frequent dreams and imagery I had and created a series of lyrics telling sort of a loose story involving the death of the Earth (or rather, everybody on it)... The whole thing is titled 'Dust', and this is one segment of it... somewhere around the middle (not chronologically though.. just in placement). This is the sort of writing which I guess is full of double meaning and blah blah blah, but some of it is literal as well. But each little part does mean something.

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The men were drawing down the moon
Then struck with bloodied faces, turned away
At the crossroads

Your polluted womb repulses me
High priestess of heresy
Why did you break the circle

Death to all your children
Or birth them to affliction
It makes no difference anymore

In the deepest midnight hour, I projected
Lights were flashing, the beast was howling
And I saw

The men were drawing down the moon
Then struck with bloodied faces, turned away
At the crossroads

The Earth was calling out for doom
And taking vengeance swallowed you
At the crossroads

Your raping flesh enrages me
Wasteland of vulgarity
Why did you kill the warrior

In the darkest desert
We've come to see your comfort
You crave suffering, and suffer you shall

Slowing down the hour, I projected
Visions passing, stars were crashing
And I saw

The men were drawing down the moon
Then struck with bloodied faces, turned away
At the crossroads

The Earth was calling out for doom
And taking vengeance swallowed you
At the crossroads

Bow down to misery
The air can hear you breathe
And in the winds, the colours
The colours start to bleed

Now there'll be no peace
Disease has entered me
And in the sands, the end
The end is all I see

Great writing man, and I know what you mean. Depression can really spark a bout of writing along with intense introspections. It's happened to me more than once that way..