Hosea 8: 7 - Dirge

He who eats the world

Shall swallow the void

He who breaks the mountains

Shall choke on dust

Sleeping swans on a satin rippling lake

Whispering seeds of storm

Fading light devouring grace and silhouettes

Is the wind I’ve sown

Pillars cracked, fractured doors

Hounds uncaged, endless roars

Soar from deep open sores

Wind has blown on the wheel

Spun it round, split the shield

Awakened beasts of prey, les chiens de tempêtes

The multi-face plague, the mirror threat

Now that all the devils are here

Who shall hear, who shall come

Who shall scatter razor tears

Spears and daggers, sharpened thorns

As the whirlwind blows my breath away

Who shall bow, who shall pray

Who shall sow these silver drops

So I may reap this cleansing flood