Coil
Around
My Vertebrae
And Singe
The Temptation To Grasp.A Molten Shield,
Terraforming
A Wilted Winter Capsule,Clasped
To A Shadow
Burned Oni Mask.Petrified Amber Rose Petals
Shatter Upon The Scales Of AnarchyAs Moss Burrows Deep Into The Skull Of Inferno.
Float With Embers,
Strike The False Dirt,
Bellow In My Smoke.Onward The Struggle;
Keeping
Hindsight A Definition.As I
Redirect
Ash
Through
A Misty Cyclone.A Glare Kisses
The
Naked EyeI See The Formidable.
Palms Erase
All Memories
Of
Towering Flames.Chant
With The Casted Glow
Of A Dying Lune.Within The Balance,
Trickle By
Our Sympathy,
Collapse Under New Gradient.Cold blooded
Pacifism,
Marks My
Singed Spear.Yet I Still Lunge
At
Your Core.Warlock
Of The Last Name,
I Shall Mark The Beast.Bleed Dry
And Melt Away
In A Coffin Of Magma.A Trident
From The
Shoulder
Of Leviathan;I Bear What Is Wrapped
Around The Earth.A Soul Must Be Consumed
By A
Serpent of Gray Flesh.To Your Realm, I Return.
A Cold Shudder,
Falling Wings
And a Cloud Of Dust.This Is The True Feast
Between A Vessel
And A Dragon.
YOU ARE READING
The Sea Of Blood, Poetry For The Homesick Nomad
PoetryThroughout destruction, only creation will follow the Lord of The Damned. Death and decay lays adjacent to our very chamber, yet due to our subconscious and it's manipulation, we will never realize enough to actually care. Exhale a mockery, while st...