Deep in wood’s twig embrace She lies beneath the leaf tessellation Her hollow skull and hollow chest are friends with the burning winds She is hallowed in her sloping waist With child
She is mother bony Woman with skinless face She is grinless For her jaw was stolen in ages past Yet she is blessed with child Her middle is heavy with boundless boy
A boy fated To be ******* Emperor Tyrant King To be lord of the shattered lands and even their scattered men Destined to be crowned in fragments of skulls and silky fabric reds He shall mate with fire Be father of arson spawn His face will be carved in Mammon’s silver toys
He will never be forgotten by any of history’s tedious scribes Yet first he must be born
Now the winds are chanting They push at her pudgy waist They are chanting for the birth of the emperor ******* king They desire the tyrant They are the slaves of God For they are catalysts that mold the shapes of futures’ lords They will sing triumphant When he is pushed through dusty hips They will congratulate their oldest and most silent friend
He is birthed with great force The spit of cadaverous womb Crying shrieks in the forest No one living to clean him
By spirits’ force he is taught To eat the last of mother’s skin To grow to be the friend of the whispering burning winds
He shall grow into great beast With strength to wield the lance He will enter the kingdoms of men Appearing as a wild God
While he is shaping his role His mother will often laugh Ever since he left her Her body was never again the same