Thy Blood, Thy Word
Here they drank to the dregs, the gilded crucible, filled to the brim with blood prophecy.
Of cracked limbs and an epoch of light, in the nape of the woods.
"These twin ancient trees shall call out to thee, Rest stillborn 'neath the dead branches.
Rest the living 'neath leaves."
And so, it was whispered from mother to child, most viral of words seep from poison soaked smiles.
"Someday my love, we shan't have to wait, a blood sacrifice shall cleave open the gates".
Thy Blood, Thy Word. For the maggots have sung, and they've sung of the soil, for stars have gathered and conspired to fall.
For the ground where we stand shakes itself apart.
The destiny of men, The great gift of light in blood debt inscribed in two childrens hearts.