Sparse beneath the crest in savage, graceful throws subjugates of the gallery parade.
Burnished by the lunar scope & secrets steps of quiet art & churn about a poison isle
whose patron waits and watches & from a cruel claw of basalt, &a ponderous funeral stone

And in the blackened breach before & it thunders around the the throne

Cast his presence, His essence a Winter repose & Fronds extending, a whisper in the folds
Of eyes in the dark & Shoals vast and brooding & They study his thoughts & They mimic his motion
Dread forms from echoes in blood & Shapes call the night to align them
In one, a stranger to light & Black rumination & Dark mouths in perishing prayer & Surround a spire of dissention
Arcane - the withering throne & Black rumination & Tides to his coronet & A surf that teems with sly creation
Apparitions lithe and pacing & The brow is furrowed deep & A nature searing in the humours
Honing furies from the edges & Dead minds feed this aberration & Swathed in tears & In ocean tinctures
Never sated for horror, for decay & His sculptures adoring & The channel of their rage

Dread forms - His thoughts are cold and still & A solemn vision in the water & A soured confidence and
They work about the throne & In fervent circles, stern and ceaseless & A wilderness dilating