My good old friend
I haven't seen in ages
I heard you are going
to a faraway isle.

I wish I could see
your grand departure
but it pains me too much
to see the leave of a soul so pure.

I may appear mature
by the name of my age
But I'm still unsure
If I want to leave my cage.

My good old friend
you needn't worry.
They will soon send my soul,
trust me i'm in no hurry.

I may think that I'm strong,
but I fear which boat will take me there.
I want to prolong where I feel I belong,
As I cannot prepare for the ghoulish air.

My good old friend
how I still wish you were here,
I cannot make amends
or endear when you disappear.

I may not think you are gone,
I long for your presence as I sing our song.
*Sweet girl wake up to hear the sunlight,
but don't open your eyes until the time's right

Do wager these untoward
motions--that what errant way
of soul they spend be sanctified.
By God's pin-up sun...whose
overtly apologetic moon shall
bear its skull forever more.
We that reared head...over and
above--shallow and below.
In keeping with us--Coming has
fulfilled itself.
What more to ask the God of our
begetting?
That the thing that God left, is as
God left it...a promise to a promise.
The way of light, way of dark--never
went back on their word, we attest...
infinite and self-congratulatory.
...Let us pray...as we pray in our
keeping, effortlessly so.

His eyes are alive with desire
Embers of brown smouldering coal
A hunger for the flames of the pyre
Upon which funerals are borne

His smile is a grimace
A shallow grunt of pain
His heart the only witness
To the bile that runs in his veins

His words are twisted demons
Who speak no civilized tongue
His oath the words of heathens
Who hail disasters yet to come

Their foreign gods are calling
Silent cries demanding blood
Echoes of the winter morning
Sounds of a spring time flood