Clatters, Clatters, Clatters of a Horrendous Nature (speeches? or feigned laughter?)
Amass! Wailing Laughter of the sullied and alike!
And trumpet the clatters till that Ruling Beacon would shy!
Ashen bone flutes of those who had sinned --- convicted by the effigies of the Holy See
Thus whistle their sleepless sigh, quiet, but simmering with furor of the tamed
So pyres of those tormented ones would not quench, but keep burning, lofty with scorn!
When their slavish night stretches to eon
For it was not Darkness that swathe their dreams:
But an undulating vermillion drape, through it a wing-shaped scar like melted gold, SHINE!
O, the Light it Emits, a pulsing warmth they failed to grasp
Not Commandments of their Lord Above, nor the Futile Clatters of the Blind,
But an oracle, heralding the imminence of a New Sun.
And it proclaims a Feast!
Silence
Horrendous! Horrendous! Horrendous!
Thousands of Ivory cuts delve into the arm of a newborn
The cry of narcotics keeps us in
False dilution of a false kingdom into an illusion of false creation!
Forever in the cage made for ants
An empire made from sand!
Where billions of stripped eyes are scorching your wasted soul
Where your mercury-leaking mind is free
Free!
Clatters, Clatters, Horrendous Clatters that Call For a Feast of Rebirth!
On the horizon, a halo-loomed troop: mirage, or their fever incarnated?
Many other tales have been echoed among the envoy of the Astral:
Beyond their reach,
Fallacies of the Heretics roam freely across their land
Rage of the Elemental Spirits
Or Battles of Godlike Forces,
Words that their scriptures could no longer contain
For those are the signs of the Rebirth, but when? at what cost?
Bewildered and befouled, swarming unknowingly towards the Branded wars
The Exiled Lambs
Put crude symbol of the White Hawk upon their fetid cross