Golden leafs in coats of luck
With their narrow frown they count no smiles
Witness the sore and dull testament, the time squandered
Long live the ill mornings in alleys sacked
Corpse collectors and bone grinders
Realms where my levies lay fraught
Missing roofs worn, home
There be the sunken shadowed sky
Where the banished settles the empty creeks
Soaked in ashen cold and dew during the day
Desolated and hidden in the vast of night
Howling at the forums of whispers
And serving to magistry’s pane
Nailed in shame by the teeth
No choir no hymn
Belong in the decline and its degenerate shroud
The right to be born in goals of interregnum forever
Which fares gifts that last only seconds after
So it’d be cursed till the seventh to the seventh
Below the beaming of gospels and decrees
Where I gaze the defeat, the abandonment
The wreckage of a soul’s light
Bound in nothing
In its vulgar form I am strained
At its worst there isn’t any resolution
To the ruin and the triumph sanctioned
No dream is separated until death
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