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Through acrid clouds of summer flies |
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The garden swells with a thousand more wise |
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Forever flung to celestial dreams |
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Clawing at the grave of the dead Nazarene |
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I watch the storm approaching |
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The darkness calls my name |
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The trees are growing restless |
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They feel the season change |
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Their fruit has putrefied |
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Forbidden once and bound to die |
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The thread of life lies severed |
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On the brink of paradise |
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Grinning winds of hate unfurled |
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Towers tall that grip the sun |
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Talons stretch 'neath her veil |
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Reclamation, our time has come |
|
Our time has come |
|
Autumn spreads its golden wings |
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And lays the path for those unseen |
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A tangled web of evil spun at last |
|
Winter spawn from barren thighs |
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To readdress, to slay the blind |
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And throw the reins untethered to the skies |
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They pray to the full moon rising |
|
Diana moving with such infinite grace |
|
Wrapped alone in a blanket of nightfall |
|
How many secrets can they read by your face? |
|
Will they know of majesty |
|
Of beauty held in dream-dead sleep |
|
And scarlet seas that bleed the frozen shores? |
|
Will their God of bridled love |
|
Assuage our rule from planes above |
|
Or shrink in fear from chaos roused for war? |
|
War! |
|
Wrest askew the nails |
|
That have held you, lurking deep |
|
September prayers are waning |
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Burn the shrines of fettered sheep |
|
Spearhead the insurrection |
|
Of a world that seeks no end |
|
We are what we are, what we shall be, again |
|
Again |
|
Appear; draped in terror |
|
To the comfort of your kin |
|
Stain the milky sunset red |
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And let the others |
|
Summer's dying |
