I (Pathway) - Fen

All will fall

All will sink

All will drown

All will fade with time

I scan the horizon

Watching, waiting

To gaze upon the grey spine of the cathedral spire

Piercing the clouds that swathe this blasted horizon

A totem of the permanence within this fog laden expanse

Eternal I am, yet each tread

On these desolate soils

And through these banks of rearing sedge

Enervate me ever further

The ghostly breath of winter enshrouds

Reaper — Harvester

Scourer of essence

The inevitable embrace whispers from an endpoint yet to be

Rotten wings spread with a torpid snap

A roiling howl that promises only a bouquet of woe

Gathering in volume, a colossal choir builds

Unearthly presence bleeds shadow over a broken landscape

Mists unfurl in a tide of unspoken promises

Supplicating embrace of ten thousand forgotten threnodies

Yet I can hear them… each and every one

Wordless these paeans to harrowed incarnation

Silence Raised to a deafening roar that shreds the senses

Eyes and ears forced shut, I revel in abnegation

And let my soul-sense wander

Slithering bent fingers of gelid ghostliness

Probe the blackened slopes of that stoic island

Tomb or temple?

Only the dead can know

Their unrelenting mantra unveils naught save timeless prophecy

And still… these wretched revenants whisper

All will fall

All will sink

All will drown

All will fade with time