Possession

possession.

where starves the eyes of militant unease.

of what is left

each grave the same as thirty years before.

a lovers walk of narrow-minded phrase

turns brighter now our waters mock and spill.

enough of all now fades who choose to sing

of brothers lost somewhere inside a calm

to pay; pay dear for sanctuary and shade

where grows our midnight hour ever still.

too far gone our civilized approuch

our aged wounds now deeper than our son of Capricorn

on savage tides through seas of discontent.

what words are ours that compliment this rage?

from where the darkness comes

from far beyond our castle walls of blood

the red orb from the sun of madness hangs

with loyalty of change

no centuries of silent solitude

dare walk with devils harp each ending day

to what is left

each grave the same as thirty years before;