Wrathage

Glory Black

Wrathage


Crossing an eternal desert 
the soul draught is constant 
Your grace and the glory 
in the skin peeled corpse 

and gravity grows on you stronger 
to drag you beneath the sand 
to bury you belly full of pearls 

For you have swallowed in your distress 
the string of pearls 
you pulled in through the blood pools 

Glory Black 
Rest assured as you were 
in your grace 
Revel featherless plucked bare 
as the peacock stranded 
under the scorching sun 
under the vultures circling 

That string of pearls 
your grace 
scattered by the vultures 
Your dried corpse 

the Glory 
layed down as a feast 
for the vultures 

your grace, your glory black