Them…

Pull out the dreams
Like petrified corpses dragged out on chains
Sorrowful coins rest a top the eyes
Sadness, despair set not wrongs right

O’er these ashen feathers I wave
A murder of crows onward with resurrection, vengeance
Abandon thine cross; march across the decayed corn
Entreat upon sleepless hollow; stirring jack-o-lanterns

Tantalizing fog seductively weaves the moor
Ban Sith’s dance delicate ribbons o’er painted moon light
Reincarnated by this disambiguation
Fleet of foot this howling terror

One and one hundred more they were
Blades fired over the tempest of the moon
As I arrive first among thee and last to fall
Thine secret awake; I unleash Them upon your world…