Nithing Pole
Sickle of Gold
Trickle of Blood
Nithing Pole
Aligned with the sun
Provides a gruesome feast for the flies
Spit it spins with haunches of meat
Fangs drip with gristle and grease
Sparks join stars in the sky
Forest peace cut by a shriek
Arcane rhythm cut by cacophony
Arrows bullets bombs and drones might makes right
Slash and burn and praise the corn adapt or die
Priests and kings and presidents submit and you'll be saved
Printing press and the oculus rift god is change
The socketless eyes of the horses head
Judge the living and the dead
A child spared is forced to accept
The lies that laid his parents to rest
Through lineage a curse descends
Fall as you rise the fate of all men