Black Sun Ceremony - Leeched

Rotten oak and steel wire guard the shores

My skin has turned to scales

The last time I set eyes on here was in the great cavern

Dark waves are lapping at my feet

They grey shore stare at me while I wait

Drawing me in

The hole I find so inviting

Their vessels are splintered and weathered beyond repair

Holes in the wall for submission

Platforms for boiling the skin

Served to the guests on sterile platters

Feasting on the flesh of the siren’s children

Get me out of this wretched house

And back to the salted bedrock

The tide washes the residue from the hall, the feast is over

Now begins the ceremony

There’s no time to waste

Fresh water flows from the hills

To be tainted

Monuments erected, not for the slaves who drove the machines

This is a manuscript for what unfolded

It will be lost to the marsh

Buried with the scars once burned

They can’t be opened

Retreating to the pit, writhing from the stakes

What made you think I could take this?

No matter what hangs from you

You’ll never be what I want