Sunder the sun,
stripping it bare,
extinguish the light,
caught in her hair.

Rip the sky wide,
bleed out the clouds,
emptiness collides,
within her mouth.

Suck out the juice,
of all hearts a-beat,
savage your taking,
so fresh the meat.

Sink in the mud,
feed the cold wrath,
empty is moon,
dead is the grass.

Vacant her hollow,
a void to span ages,
red veils a-spinning,
the words upon pages.

It's there and it's gone,
just as you kowtow,
left with the ashes,
bitter, what you've sown.


Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 7th of Khepary, in the year 495 MA.