It was not to teach of hate,
The halls of midnight foetal,
The breath of the Elders' languid,
And the ghosts of youth expired.
The dark interns the light,
As morn divides the dusk.
A new life,an old lie.
Strangely ,O fallen Gehenna!
It does not disturb the hearth,
The will of I,- endured
How to read of the tale,
A myriad composed, juxtaposed
Of words believed truth.
My stand now,
In their weakened lives and holocaust memories,
Hold the mantle of the last embodies years.
The book of Her is only the whispering,
One caustic natured creature,
Broken before the spector speaks,
Parietal..no soul to hear Her now.
O Gehenna! A tale of pathetic impositions,
Salt can turn the flesh of rot,
The pillar stricken...smelt of burnt cadaver,
To serve the Elders,
I vision the death in You,
And hate not the dream funereal pyre,
Of its' written nocturium truth.