Part I

Listless illusion of disease
Flitting petals in the sickly breeze
Ivy sinks into the heart of me
Roots becoming limbs to breathe

And it's me or the hollow trees
And it's me or the hollow trees

What's repeated couldn't call for help
Cannot speak for lack of breath
Poisoned air and the scent of death
Empty eyes drifting to the vacant left

And there's nothing like the Martyr's pelt
And there's nothing like the Martyr's pelt

Part II

What have you seen, little light
What sky might you make night
Don't lay aside in absent fright
Don't take the side of tyrants, fight

For there's nothing like the Mad King's hide
For there's nothing like the Mad King's hide

Over old logs and under dead cold sun
Over dark water, hum the hunter's song
Do you hear the call to arms, don't wait too long
Do you feel the air that thrums, let the blood flow gold

It's for you or the end of endless love
It's for you or the end of endless love

Part III

So slow to the earth, now silent in the morning
Little light fell to night and declined adornment
I still see her in the dead forest, a quiet warning
No love to the loveless of mourning

And it's her or the rope of discordance
And it's her or the rope of discordance

To fire the blue of innocence burns low
Take the arms of the earth and replenish your own
Raise the corrupt world to the oldest throne
Surrender to none, surrender to the Great Below

And there's more to agony than I care to know
And there's more to agony than I care to know

It's a deep breath in,
****** through the nose.
Gotta clear that airway for a straight line,
Of sparkling dust,
All crushed up.
She cleans off her library card,
Giving her finger a taste of pure snow,
Twisting up that twenty dollar bill.

Skin crawling with anticipation,
Take it all in,
Take it all in!

Oh god, that ******* drip.
God love this ******* thrill.

You've grown older in the eyes.
Your words suggest otherwise.

Your hand creeps across the table's edge.
This is my que to meet you.

Not again, not this time,
A mother ******* millionth time.

"Take me home," my mouth relayed.
Before this I had always stayed.

.
My dress, sheer as blood
Under light, falls so soft,
Your fingers, stone hard
And pointed as the sun,
Free me from cold body,
I loose as my dress, fallen
And my spirit, bare, fresh
As the lighted moon, quakes
Without sound.  

Touch me  .  .  .
My prince, rake my nudes
With tooth and lip, smell
My breaking waters living,
This spring is autumn, live,
Like a pool shudders in rain,
My skin kippering in cloud
And my *** unleashed from
Shroud, you, my man are all,
I wake in a garden full, ripen,
Of leaves and old embracings.
My springs, eternal sprouting
From a source, branch to earth
Spend me, my Lord, fire me up.