The Void Thirsty

before time had flown over ghost-misted stones

It was vowed and it knelt to the free

but it learned to resist

and began to exist

and it grew to a feared enemy

on the frightning last stair

in the ash scented air

Where the last man should find ecstasy

When sun faded to gold

which decayed into mould

i gave in to the salt of the sea

unholy and warm

I was praying forlorn

to be given a knife or a key

time gave none but now

there's a wound on my brow

where he cut a new eye to foresee

washed up on the shore

and deprived of their lore

they bid farewell to their sacred trees

both courage and lust

fell from fire to dust

and their holders wept long on their knees

Lids burnt to ashes fell apart from the useless eye

Leafs fallen from the heathen's heart in his silent cry

Drunk on the aether of the night trees turned into cold stones

Marking the grave that keeps inside dreams instead of bones

Mourning the charmed trees of our past blooming nevermore

Pressed by a throne empty and vast grieving for our lore

Thirsty for void and filled with lust raving on the shore

Dissatisfied and left to rust while night came back for more