Palate base within the dusk,
Behold a weathered shape,
Lifted from a lifeless nap,
Vilified and namely wraith.
Who's maw upon,
And Scarlet gaze,
force this visage gape.
Utter name and he to come,
To warrant nip of nape.
Form unbound,
Forwarn, for late, for now of course,
To wait.
With peril
thee the plight,
That snares the breath of hope of life,
With listless appetite.
A
Hunger finds
the flesh abide
Hunger
honest true
And
Hunger
True and tried
for all the angels shun thee sight,
For he In darkness hide.
We patient herd his trade in stock.
And pestilence he be.
A
Villian, cur, thing off hate.
For not of
Slight
of cowards might
And of countless hate.
A wasting ill, with famined course,
To drain the sun, it's light.
Did Force
My
Aim
Sure
Of fight
My shape
And Siloute
Of
Count
And
Desperate
So
now of fearing,
against this fighting,
thoughts alighting,
hope
Found the
sound retreat.
With such Horrors of the desperate.
On terrors chest to beat.
Such is fault , to mind of me and find a safer hell.
To fall into past
And
Find, to cause me pause.
Of such things did find my eye.
To found me question cause.
My hallow wasting,
which i held.
For which i did embrace,
Did "Call", this thing,
This Thing of dark,
To me Invest and trip embark ,
And on thee purpose stake.
Then a moment's Glance , refracted moment, not distracted,
Held me in the now.
Ether of the truth was mirror,
To a tether held.
Drained of lie to be his lamb,
An I to be his life.
Would dance again,
again, again!
We - of mettled strife.
