For Tenny on his birthday
As the Dying Winter Sleeps,
The Swinemaker writes the Book of Skin.
‘Tis a story of his Lucid Hollow Dreams,
A book about the Harvest of Sin.
Wingless, Dezra is Falling Away,
As the Inspired Voices preach their Jazz Theory.
And in My Malice I am Stigmatized,
In my Solitude I am Forgiven, Forgotten.
‘Andura’, the voices whisper,
As we cause our own Extinction.
Silent Chaos Serpentine,
Your venom is Thicker Than Blood.
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