Mystify

"Red lord of sorrows, hide us from the blind,
'Till nocturnal reveries seal what they shall find,
In silence, serenity feeds us the night,
We stand by your power, let us rape the light..."

The prankster laughs,
In will to pass,
His mind to grip with ease,
The thoughts of all,
Those bent to fall,
Beside their master's knees,
In a timeless lie,
All passions die,
From morbid tragedies,
While the darkened souls,
Of endless holes,
Shed their luminosities,

In the circle of mastery,
Five candles tempt the shadows,
The dark bishops, rising high,
From the lanterns bathed in wax,
Disciples of an inverted Christ,
Like leaders of the tomb,
Shred away bleak misery,
As black lust begins to bloom,

Hypnotized,
Mesmerized by a swollen stare,
Devoid of life and without a care,
As children of the night,
Bound to prepare to fight the sight of light,
In spite of righteousness to blight,
The sullen clouds that part the sky,
A blanket clustering all awry,
Well in time but ill in life,
Judging spirits by the knife,

The dark magician waves his hand by stone,

Fire, wind and nature's hatred,
In the left hand of their summoner,
Water, wind and nature's pleasure,
In the right hand of their god,

They walk like puppets of the moon,
Into the resting eve,
Holding their lanterns by their side,
A single, solid, perfect line,
Under blistered twilight,
They were alone,
Bearing bloody diamonds,
Jackals they'd grown,

The wolves followed swiftly,
In paths of dew,
The ravens held in circles,
Blinded they flew,
The trees whispered softly,
The breeze told lies,
The vines spoke of tragedies,
The grass gave cries,

The druid followed the cloaks,

In time the crypt fell open,
And the ritual lived,
The dark bishops and disciples,
Seethed for the summoner,
Whose eyes had flickered quickly,
Above the crest,
The seven chosen bastards,
Deceived the rest,

The druid was locked in the summoner's gaze,

Under his spell,
The druid fell,

The wolves surrounded the gate,
In the chill of the hate and the sorrow,
And turned against the druid,
Defiling good, dethroned the legend,

The summoner and his cloaks,
Combined pure Hell and nature,
While the forest and the wings,
Stood by the druid's towered side,
Unleashed was a stream of life,
From the green, death from the black,
In the mixture their lives were held,
While the bishops fought the air,

The summoner leaned against the torch,

Burned and broken, robes to ashes,
The disciples felt the earth,
As the bishops died beside them,
And the wolves rose from their curse,

Withdrawn from battle,
The druid stood, arms in a vee,
Above in victory,
As the summoner bled at his feet,
The wild kingdom,
Returned to guard the elements,
From lurid sinners,
Crestfallen through their second sense,

"Spirits lit fires in their eyes,
Faeries built rivers from their cries,
Ents built skeletons for the earth,
Wisps trailed winds toward a new rebirth..."