For the Worship of Summer:


Skies

Crowded With Red Light

Beaming

from our host,

The magnetic

Veil,

that once sheltered Us

Stripped from the globe

Her dry hills,

Would become the kindling

for our World

Awaiting its Humbling

With Ignorant Fear

Its Undoing would come

Only with Her command

for when She spoke

all their cities,

and their wonders,

were reduced to ash

And So many, were returned to the void

The Old Mother, would take them

as her just due

What is a loss on our plane is her gain!

What must be given and therefore, taken?

To rectify the crimes of man?

That which must be cast away

through the abrasive sands of time,

like these rituals of the worship of summer

Long Forgotten

Like the minuscule fragments of bone from the rattle

time tattles on the crimes of our enemies

the gaps in the glyphs or the millions

That know not their tongues and tomes!

So must we entomb them, to be forgotten

In the loathsome heat of the sun

Let the elements reap our vengeance

Upon the descendants of our oppressors

May her Waters desecrate

the inheritors, of their plunder!


This worship is the warship of "summer":

Whats planted in the Spring

will grow in the summer

and come to harvest

in the beginning of the fall

But as we've learned

from the fools of Winter,

Perhaps some fruits are worth suffering for

SO! Like the azure painted beings!

FED TO THE SUN

So long ago, so must we, march up the pyramid

and give, or take, what is commanded!

So much is asked, yet so little is offered

this void,

fuels the tanks, on the ship

THAT WILL BRING the war


The Perpetual Powder Keg

When the loathsome light of her son

scathes the surface and irradiates,

our globe

Hail the flames of decay!

for they are the flames of justice

Hail the stones throne in anger!

thru the windows of their false order

open the mountain sealing our bounty


If need be, When the chaos has settled

or in the heat of the battle,

take them, as captives, to the great old city

and paint THEM blue like the waters,

before their desecration,

and lead your azure enemies up the steps,

to the temple

atop the pyramid of the old ones,

and offer their hearts

to the bringers of rain

their pain, spins the wheels of time, and pays

the clouds not to rain, on the fields of our foes and enemies

those whose blood must be split,

in the war

that must be won, we must go, spiritually

toe to toe

with an enemy, thoroughly robed,

in the illusions of power

but the window, to destroy them

grows narrower by the hour

their visions, that must be destroyed!