Crawl, oh prophet, through the dark
Crawl until you feel no more
Crawl until your final spark
Can no longer heal the gore
Of your bloody feet and hands
And your oozing wings and face
Crawl until your cult disbands
Crawl no matter at what pace
For however far you go
I shall find you in a wink
For however much you know
I am more than you can think
Crawl, oh prophet, for you shall
Stay forever in your cage
Bleed and sing your damned chorale
I no longer need to rage
You will slowly dissipate
In your angry little pen
Here calmly I shall wait
For your petty little men
Not until I burn them all
Shall I think of any break
Such, oh prophet, is the toll
Of your auguring mistake.
Prophet
© Copyright: Триумвират, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115102102953
Свидетельство о публикации №115102102953
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