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Flesh

Stains the walls

Burned sage melts the scads of heads that line the throne room floors

The scent of ashen skin pervades and rises to the ceiling

From which dissevered arms hang and reach

Grasping hopelessly to return to life once more

All whom fix their eyes upon the faces in the halls, horrified in trance

Enclosed behind these walls we suffer without causе

And The death

That swims

Benеath these latent floors

Lends true to the readings of the court

Condemn or commend either way there is no door to harmony

Write my fortune in the sand

And if I rise aloft the bones

Heed my warning

Bask in glory

Curled backs snap while the gears turn incessantly

The wailing and rhythmic cracking of bone overwhelms the soundscape

Enclosed behind these walls we suffer without cause

Thy nature is to howl as our skin is seared

The sound serves only to awaken the deities asleep and

Praying for healing

The readings of the court

Condemn or commend either way there is no door to harmony

Write my fortune in the sand

And if I rise aloft the bones