Darkened Invocation II
Now a silvercrested ellipses withers overhead, Infringed by the bindings of darkened clouds. Ghostly illuminations are bounding, Death grips plunge through the clustered clouds. Death find me, death grip me, death take me. The binding gates intrailed in the ocean depths, Death strewn the cold, weary night. It’s binding hands bred me off of fear that’s freight. A bloodmule screaming in agony, as they croon, the harshladen winter. Storms lie burgeon, driving and crashing all standing inhabitants. TV death absorbed by young subjects, death strewn by life, Death causes injury, death well and intrigue which makes me right. The stifling grip of death bound the underworld, And will make me well again, if you believe it. There is life after death and death caused by life, Which proves us immortal. Who are you to say,
That you aren’t really alive?what life you croon again! Death does life a pardon, for death is an act of life, And blood is the rose of mysterious human. Death is the blazing stride of a natural mystic. Blood to be spilt, find the unknown, Confined within its optical promise, Blood shall be spilt again.