1. VAST, LOATHSOME

Pale chalice before me, oracle or orifice
Cold blood stirring on the damp side of the glass
Pale sheets and knotted limbs, the light a yellow haze
I see rows of crosses kneeling by tendrils of grey

That which is broken of spirit shall ever fractured be
That which is bent ever kneel before the scythe
Smile and grasp the knife as the blood pools, an infinite well
A certain death, an endless hell

I recall this house at the edge of my perception
A blanket of lead draped across my sodden shoulders
Is this the place where the fog parted in my nightmare ?
The place of the pines—blighted, bent, conjoined like frozen limbs

Fences coiling, ensnaring their surveyors
Trapped like ships between the tides
Slipping downward, broken on the great wheel
But at the surface the fog is lifting
Wade into the yawning gulf
Wrest me from the jaws of sleep
Speak into my mouth

Face up in a loathsome dawn
Days pass, wracked and endless
Sour thirst thick upon my tongue
Last breath a pill I dare not swallow still

Face down like a wounded rat
Crushed leg dragging ever greater circles
Grasp the knife as the blood pours still
Vast wound, infinite well
A certain death, an endless hell.


2. ORB WEAVER

(Instrumental)


3. NINE CIRCLES BY STARLIGHT

Cold constellations
Pale, leering and eerie
In their streaming vault of ichor
Green, loathsome, now growing too close to be denied

Wrenched through the canvas
Into the maw of winter
Howling its sharp dismal terror
Tossed, blown like leaves before a cosmic gale

The pass, place of ill omen
Girded in obscure tongues
Gather your ashen cloak
Weaver of mortal thread
We, the oblation upon your slope
In blood beneath the starlight
Nine throats that whisper as one
Arrayed here upon you in caskets of ice

None shall thaw

Some pages once written can never be erased
Some words once spoken can never be unsaid
Some blood once spilled can never be cleaned, never made whole
Some doors once open can never be closed again.