The Conqueror Wyrm

Burning glances nocturnal devotions

awaken the dreaming dead bereft

of vengeance and in the horizon

wraith of a messianic failure

false visions moons waning

pantheon of obsidian seraphim.

Wringing my hands drowns your blessing.

A monument to heavens a silhouette

of the tired is death the only

doorway or just an infinite

ending questions and contradictions

your sewn mouth secrets I've had all

I can stomach my apathy

has blinded me casting

my failures to the wind

and still death waits

above and below me on the wane

this intention lies broken shadows

wringing my hands drowns your

blessing and so it rained fire in light

of my reason what have I done

to deserve this and so we wept

and so we wept and so we wept