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Do you not see in the above;
into the Suns and Moons gaze - it is there
to see the corruption of wyrds
it has all but changed suddenly.
like Isis, the Divine Descent -
like Corona, the Imperials
which into their hands but gather
the waters of life and then pours it
onto a candle; into vapour
does it turn: To Heaven does it return.
For the Flame which burns
it is stronger - it is the Hearth of Thou
but it is so fragile - so `,` so -
into You and I and Me it flows
like Isis, the Divine Ascent
like Corona, that of its People.
I am with the serpents inside it
I move with them as it slithers
for was it Poison or Not - I know not
I am not of your lineages,
I listen, in the chant, am I you too -
Then I must return it
the door is unlocked, I pour, pour
spirits and souls into them
the poisons flow through us
to be purified into a drop
deadly beyond imagination,
for it's the tears of the Dragons
which in the rivers and aires flow
Holy, Holy Art Thou No More,
It weeps, it is the weeping sound.
I am Hers, I am Heirs, I am Theirs.
Into the stillnes of these nights. |