Bury me within silken robes that permeate the frost.
Deep within this chasm of deep flora and bracken debris,
...And darkness.

As time burns its hole,
Within this grove,
Weathering it's deeper scowl upon the frost..

(This dawn that creeps, as the ancients die
Their hands fall upon the world that quakes within their last grasp
As the sky burns...)

As I lie within the sphere of gowning emptiness,
Taciturn terror takes hold of my breaths..
As they cowl and comfort my world,
They take hold of my voice...

A void born of innocence and youth,
Yet the tendrils take hold of this lost innocent,
And the child that bears this wickedness,
Born to bore into the tempting hearts of men...
Forever deepening into madness,
Side by side with it's conscience...