[b]I journeyed, long in walking,
far beyond the place of stopping,[/b]
[i]where there was no more returning
to the people I had known.[/i]

[b]I saw the world forgotten,
where the grass gives up on growing,[/b]
[i]and I knew that I would never
make another journey home.[/i]

[b]Upon that fleshy plain,
below the final rock outcropping,[/b]
[i]stretched the vast and empty desert
of the hungry bleeding thing.[/i]

[b]Encompassing the earth
to the horizon, all-consuming,[/b]
[i]crying in a thousand voices 
to its desolate god-king.[/i]

[b]And the music of its crying,
never dead, ever dying,[/b]
[i]sent me running in a madness
I could scarce compare to fear.[/i]

[b]Not to safety, but to silence,
unto my own unmaking.[/b]
[i]And yet now, upon awaking,
once again the song I hear.[/i]

[b]I long to taste the fruit of the earth,
I long for water quenching[/b]
[i]of my thirst unending, 
nothing that remains can satisfy.[/i]

[b]For my voice has joined the chorus
ever more, ever mourning,[/b]

[i]ever singing, ever hungry,[/i]

[i][b]ever dying, never die.[/b][/i]