Stirring in the laugh of madness
down in the darkness through the hollow sadness, borrow bones of courage and do unto the dire faces for that which they do unto you.
A blood moon rises,
for there has never been an innocent man hung high in the gallows and dragged from the home on the killing rock where we shall take him with open eyes for he will witness the atrocity he has set in motion.
Undergo such an archaic journey until for you find serenity in a thorny ditch,
and who would not change the sad song of the crow for the eternal tune of the raven.
Now flesh spirit burn at the stake for the ignorance thy hath.