Wrathage

Glory black

Wrathage
Crossing an eternal desert
the soul draught is constant
Your grace and the glory
in the skin peeled corpse

and gravity grows on you stronger
to drag you beneath the sand
to bury you belly full of pearls

For you have swallowed in your distress
the string of pearls
you pulled in through the blood pools

Glory Black
Rest assured as you were
in your grace
Revel featherless plucked bare
as the peacock stranded
under the scorching sun
under the vultures circling

That string of pearls
your grace
scattered by the vultures
Your dried corpse

the Glory
layed down as a feast
for the vultures

your grace, your glory black

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