Summer Dying Fast

Through acrid clouds of summer flies
the garden swells with a thousand more wise,
forever flung to celestial dreams clawing
at the grave of the dead Nazarene.

I watch the storm approaching,
the darkness calls my name.
The trees are growing restless,
they feel the season change.

Their fruit has putrified,
forbidden once and bound to die.
The thread of life lies severed
on the brink of paradise.

Grinning winds of hate unfurled
dash towers tall that grip the sun,
talons stretch beneath her veil.
Reclamation, our time has come!

Time has come!

Autumn spreads its golden wings
and lays the path for those unseen,
a tangled web of evil spun at last.

Winter spawn from barren thighs
to readdress, to slay the blind,
and throw the reins untethered
to the skies

They pray to the full moon rising!
Diana moving with such infinite grace
wrapped alone in a blanket of nightfall.
How many secrets can they read by your face?

Will they know of majesty,
of secrets held in dream-dead sleep,
and frozen stars that gild the forest floor?

Will their "God" of bridled love
assuage our rule from planes above,
or shrink in fear from Chaos roused for war?

War!

Wrest askew the nails that
have held you, lurking deep.
September prayers are waning,
burn the shrines of fettered sheep.

Spearhead the insurrection
of a world that seeks no end.
"We are what we are,
what we shall be, again!"

Appear, draped in terror
to the comfort of your kin.
Stain the milky sunset red
and let the other in.

Summer's dying fast...