Of Ruin and Banishment

Flesh

Stains the walls

Burned sage melts the scads of heads that line the throne room floors

The scent of ashen skin pervades and rises to the ceiling, from which dissevered arms hang and reach

Grasping hopelessly to return

To life once more

Enclosed behind these walls

We suffer without cause

And the death that swims beneath these latent floors

Lends true to the readings of the court

Condemn or commend, either way

There is no door to harmony, write my fortune in the sand

And if I rise aloft the bones

Heed my warning

Bask in glory

Curled backs snap while the gears turn incessantly

The wailing and rhythmic cracking of bone overwhelms the soundscape

Enclosed behind these walls

We suffer without cause

Thy nature is to howl

As our skin is seared

The sound serves only to awaken the deities

Asleep and praying for healing the readings of the court

Condemn or commend, either way

There is no door to harmony, write my fortune in the sand

And if I rise aloft the bones