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With righteous red envy

He raises his eyes

Can we get further than faith?

After all

You left your sons to perfect creation

To walk on snakes

The spring and origin, the woe of man

They’ll remain a shell of exogamy

Requiring death of the moon

A cannibalism of harvest bodies

Sorrow wells up in dirt

Water turns to winter

Mouths of misrepresentation

The knights perish

Tried in fear and trembling

Cover their left-handed nods

Their lyrical stars dialect

Spun by tales of futility

Refuse to rob the wake