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In Flames Whoracle Jotun I often dream of huge numb buildings jet-black sinister architecture being installed when nobody sees Their appearance so sudden that few would take notice And when I wake up I imagine being crushed by one imagining its weight its silence and the absence of excuses for a havoced life and the privilege of a 22-kilometre tombstone Jotun A body of black that carried no reflection defying its own room un-earthly eggs of decreation There would be colonies mushroom-scattered forever out of context rising spores from a dying world to pollute to chase away what´s left Sun-white pulverised desert stone and serpentine lizard mouths Pales away the pyramids rewriting 4500 years of history raping the statue of liberty outplays the acropolis inverting the fjords invades the n y skyline to dream its own existence in one single final word Jotun Can we identify them as the flint buried in our reptile skulls or the time-bomb coded in our dna |
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