Come, bedeviled one, and reveal your hornsBlasphemy of soul is to turn your headwhile the entities marchslickened with blood and quickened of mindthe horde marchesthe succulent of the innocent is plunderedsilence of our history is how blindly we are...

back and forththe world swirls aroundback and forththe trees haltedwisdom speaks as they rustle their leavescalling me to the gardeneverything is watching meseeing what I'm aboutthey are interested in the mortal who can hear themhush now creature and pull...

leaning into the sunshinethe day opens for mefaded blue jeans warmed, smell like the windmy soul longs to floatand so it doesfinding myself in the house of the rising sundamned to be wildchaos has its place inside methe world...