The Pact

The pact
Will made-form
Word made-flesh
Our dolourous exile

Cold ice-ridden air
With fire in our lungs
Hot wrathful prescience
With ice in our minds

A serpentine path
Our irrevocable epitaph

Shed our vessels
Hollow beings – at one with the void
Our blackened wings unfurl

Oh the pact resounds
From our withered lips
Cancerous ash falls
From our feathers

Pestilence blooms
In our footsteps
Wormwood radiates
From our scales

Our independence night
In the arboreal gloom
We will rot
Bound forever