A shred of flesh

Torn
From
Night

Fell upon
My opened mouth
On Midwinter’s night

The call of the dying god
Sounds loudly in my soul’s self—
I scream as I rise aloft

Leave my body
Look down upon it as I climb

Torn from
The night

I trace the path of the black moon—
I open a channel of force
Connecting my soul to that face.

Flesh

Is transformed

Formed by will
Astral flesh
Envelops

Spell, cast.
Wills, linked.

I am us
We are I
Linked brothers

We begin the incantation

Setting darkling rune-forms
Over the works of the Light.

Our war begins

Though scattered, we are as one

Consecrated

To us,
To them…
Apocalypse

Or perhaps a new aeon…

Shredded flesh
Torn at night
Will feed us.

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