Corrupt or guiltless he will prey for your passing
to clasp on the nucleus of your being.
His eyes see noting but he tastes the intentions
of every thought that passes.

As you transcend from sentience to necrosis
waiting patiently the binary crows linger above
you to  taste upon the vessels of the devouring
locks to the soul, only sockets bleed tears now.

He is the priest of eternal silence he utters no words,
only claps the essence of you and where it may decline.
How have you played in life which corner do you fall.