knumpcy

Becoming


Crimson cradling the coven cross,
Pastors preach with ill effect,
Monster lurk in well hidden shadows,
Pacify the worldly tokens,
Lament in drowning plight.

Speak unwillingly to the masses and choke on tithing,
Cast out the virtues of recent and past tradition,
Bewilder the feeble into ponder peril.

Spin the web of deceit and illusion to cause minions collapse,
Entwine the calling of pleasant rhythms,
Curl thy finger into crooked cringes to pacify all in lost embrace.

Slowly withering and fall unto decay,
Preach no longer the dreaded dreams distraught by mystical sirens,
Crowded by legions un-wanting and lacking,
May and my withhold the darkest despair to linger in numbness,
Ponder a present and past in not,
Passerby to sorrow unfelt and undaunted.