Mare

O' sacred death, guide me across the precipice

To show me the splendors of the void,

Come unto me o' sacred death, hypostasized angel of my dreams.

In hypnogogic midnight's burial sanctum interned,

I lay within the coffin of the flesh.

Supine and cremated like a corpse within its grave

I pray thee come.

Come unto me o' sacred death

And chase the radiance that alights the fixed cruciform;

Ye holy sigil that grounds me betwixt darkness and light.

Remove these nails with shrouded hands,

That the serpent may come down from the crux

And return to the nullity of the abyss.

Come unto me o' sacred death and wake me to thy vision,

Blessed attendant draped in winding-cloths of bleeding shadow,

Menacing in torpid and silent vigil,

Knelt in sermon upon my chest.

Pluck from my chest the clay-born heart

And make communion of its ebb.

Take from me my breath that I may speak your words

And take from me the light from my eyes that I may see the darkness.

Bath me in thy shadow and fill my wounds with the light of resurrection.