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A shred of flesh

Torn

From

Night

Fell upon

My opened mouth

On Midwinter’s night

The call of the dying god

Sounds loudly in my soul’s self—

I scream as I rise aloft

Leave my body

Look down upon it as I climb

Torn from

The night

I trace the path of the black moon—

I open a channel of force

Connecting my soul to that face.

Flesh

Is transformed

Formed by will

Astral flesh

Envelops

Spell, cast.

Wills, linked.

I am us

We are I

Linked brothers

We begin the incantation

Setting darkling rune-forms

Over the works of the Light.

Our war begins

Though scattered, we are as one

Consecrated

To us,

To them…

Apocalypse

Or perhaps a new aeon…

Shredded flesh

Torn at night

Will feed us.