Wrapped in a proclamation to the world Within anthems called out across the rooftops A whispered command waits to be discovered Hidden between the blood-spattered pages...
A Proclamation
Hidden Paths
Hold tight the paper hand Follow the scent of dust and madness into the past These black tunnels beneath the world Where evil whispers it’s secrets.
Matchsticks
Fly the way of windstorms Howl at the gate, passage through the wall Voice of death calling out ‘enter’ And no dream of disobedience will come.
Sawdust
Living behind glass, or etched into its surface Clouds heavy with rain roll across a sky streaked with pink
