A king of witches flaps his wings.
In clouds of amber smoke he sings.
From darkest planet unlit by sun,
our dreams are set ablaze.
We pendulum \'round the smallest plight.
Drawn and quartered, soaked in blight.
Scattered across the universe,
infectious and bellowing song.
It whispers as it paints the sea,
swallows patterns, gravity.
Every time-line holographic,
it\'s there for all to see.
Become unfurled, regain the vision.
Embrace this most divine collision.
In black sands we will recall
what it means to be \"alive.\"
Boundless, weightless, trapped in split,
division bells and binding writ,
force the hands of weaker gods,
to bow down once again.
Wont you please come free it all?
Consume me first, your loyal thrall.
A perfect circle, the planet hums,
awaiting your cosmic ruin.
The hymn of screams and laughs is honey,
queens and jesters, pawns and money.
All of our entirety,
a joke, a spark for flame.
I never claim to know it\'s name,
such a titan, nightmares fame,
huge and turbulent oceans deep,
unlit by any sun.