Sky-lit serene
This eve doth sweep
My bosom clean.
In the alcove antique
Betwixt seen and unuttered,
Obsolesce the face of longing;
For the driving principle of becoming
The world teareth asunder –
In unmerciful carnage,
In unhinged disowning.
Sky-lit serene
Here toll the bells
Of truthful clawing.
Dark pit and primal donning
Ritualize the ways of knowing,
And the enslavement of the dove’s feet
Doth cry in rightful crowing
For the aberrant undaunted.
Sky-lit serene
This eve doth sweep
My bosom clean.
Sky-lit awoken
The nightmare steed
Wildly runneth –
Its mane is the flag
of crowning,
Its eyes are of
Daemon
growling.
