Sparse beneath the crest in savage, graceful throws subjugates of the gallery parade.
Burnished by the lunar scope / secrets steps of quiet art / churn about a poison isle
Whose patron waits and watches / from a cruel claw of basalt, /a ponderous funeral stone
And in the blackened breach before / it thunders around the the throne
Cast his presence, His essence a Winter repose / Fronds extending, a whisper in the folds
Of eyes in the dark / Shoals vast and brooding / They study his thoughts / They mimic his motion
Dread forms from echoes in blood / Shapes call the night to align them
In one, a stranger to light / Black rumination / Dark mouths in perishing prayer / Surround a spire of dissention
Arcane - the withering throne / Black rumination / Tides to his coronet / A surf that teems with sly creation
Apparitions lithe and pacing / The brow is furrowed deep / A nature searing in the humours
Honing furies from the edges / Dead minds feed this aberration / Swathed in tears / In ocean tinctures
Never sated for horror, for decay / His sculptures adoring / The channel of their rage
Dread forms - His thoughts are cold and still / A solemn vision in the water / A soured confidence and
They work about the throne / In fervent circles, stern and ceaseless / A wilderness dilating
Writer(s): James Smith, Andrew Mcivor, Stewart Rhys Ireland, Andrew Galloway, Mark Willson Pepper
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