Why does this morning feel different from all the others The Hand that once gave life has begun to smother From my within my lungs the air has been released And I cannot feel the chill in the morning breeze
Yet I am at ease...
For me there is no warmth left even in the Sun Safe from the earth this crest will be undone Naked and alone, upon an altar made of stone I fear has become final throne
Upon the third circle on the first day Where nothing moves but the daevas in the wind The wind bears a silent calling to mountains far away Summoning the birds of prey
"On the second day the vultures came The beasts of birds, the sentinels of decay Deeper each day they tore into my flesh Feasting upon my loins and the insides through my chest For days it lasted until they ran out of meat leaving behind only bones for the Sun to bleach"
Upon this silent altar, upon my dreamless bed Leaving the world bereft and the vultures fed Slowly all will be gone that has ever signed to me As the remains quietly wash into the sea...