The Conqueror Wyrm

Burning glances nocturnal devotions
awaken the dreaming dead bereft
of vengeance and in the horizon
wraith of a messianic failure
false visions moons waning
pantheon of obsidian seraphim.
Wringing my hands drowns your blessing.
A monument to heavens a silhouette
of the tired is death the only
doorway or just an infinite
ending questions and contradictions
your sewn mouth secrets I've had all
I can stomach my apathy
has blinded me casting
my failures to the wind
and still death waits
above and below me on the wane
this intention lies broken shadows
wringing my hands drowns your
blessing and so it rained fire in light
of my reason what have I done
to deserve this and so we wept
and so we wept and so we wept