The Moon and Magic

He’s standing alone at the edge of that night surrounded by blaze lights Staring the murk, distant and dense Where stories are yet to be told At the back of a fable they ride towards crimson winds That blow away Ghosts on the horizons of a story soon to begin On the altar of oracles runes are disposed Telling faiths and aftermaths On a crescent-shaped Moon in the dark of the woods Magic As the lord of a castle in black, he beholds The abyss and the river below The glow at the end, a shine in the night An angel with death cold eyes At the back of a fable they ride towards crimson winds That blow away Martyrs predestined to see their lights ripped apart On the altar of oracles runes are disposed Telling faiths and aftermaths On a crescent-shaped Moon in the dark of the woods Magic For the trail of tears forged by the seer Bare, unrighteous brilliancy Oh the Moon, witness of revenant fallacies “…Angel come to me…” On the altar of oracles runes are disposed Telling faiths and aftermaths On a crescent-shaped Moon in the dark of the woods Magic For the trail of tears forged by the seer Bare, unrighteous brilliancy Oh the Moon, witness of revenant fallacies “…Angel come to me…”

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 24, 2025