verbal sinew
I think back to you
even when i was ill and slain
all i want to say is i love you
and your spirits
early in the mornings
my bill and coos', i quit for you
to reveal you again
naughty is comparable
you give me the vault of heaven
to set me on the loose
and to masacre my
thralls
i will hide in a wasteland like a vermin
in the fever of your fantasy
let vagabonds bring me sanction
over your realms
we are badlands away
let our crusades befall
bring me sanction
in the dearest days
barren glade