We lose there is no victor
Black blood once our reward
Of rape we imbibe come war
Summoned by pale orators
The fatuous masses roar
And glutted they feed the flames

Cull our fate, the shifting shapeless shade
The reigning hands remain unstayed
These days of waste and waiting blades
The latent blaze betrays its face

Raise, raise up your hands in plea
Entreating God that he might see
The wretchedness of all
All but thee
The writing on the wall
What will be will be
Black tendrils now call
Us from the sea
The pride upon the fallen
What will be will be
The trumpeting of storms
The swarm consumes the inkish foam
Burning the hole to the unknown

Great the waste, the rubble laying the
Scape, the weight of crawling nothing
Await the rains, torrents won’t wipe
Away remains the clay of hubris

A desiccated hull
The star that’s lost its will
As hungry feed the full
Swallowing the poison pill
Making mantic all our blind
Leveling the crooked lines
Knowing mercy as divine
There’ll be no sympathy this time
Our roads have all been swept away
The gnawing embrace of decay

No stone unturned
No bone unburned
No grain unchurned
No neighbor unspurned
No flag unfurled
One riddle answered

Visit the
Interior
Parts of
The earth
Therein you
Shall find
The hidden
Stone