As for Altars and Firesides (Demo Version)

Upon a solemn and misty grove
As laden gusts seethe
Through a tinged knoll
I see a faint figure, in follage enrobed,
Breathing as through me; a spiteful implore

What does thy bid, on devilish grounds,
A dark privilege-uncured blood amounts-
Astound and feign my hour...
It finds no spark in vein-cast out
A lifeless force save a pulse allowed
Encompassing Fate it flees unscathed
By the world's vile vents;
An epoch of raids

I followed him lurching in a stiff graven form,
Hidden by trees swaying in this cold, grueling morn;
A crooning came forth from the infants of night,
It carries my post, raven-haired for swift ride
But by cause of my play, my voyeur escapes--
The stranger, my captor, awaits...

Did not the past render me defenseless toward him?
On that stark evening dusk when I felt stirred by
Love, he eclipsed appetence, lurid vice.
Couldn't utter a word,
As my bloodline was curbed,
And it froze and failed to ignite
By the red downward sun,
Manifest craves to hunt
While the devious named him defunct?

But inwoven by he is pallor wrought to seize
Deft gallows beg my flesh to thee
Now deplete
With yet a willful fate and favor,
Proven worth through searing vines
Virulent boil
In charted disease
Repulsed and sickened, vomit falls unsheathed
No longer for covet or fanciful halls
My liking inclined to discard false evolve
The stories of lore rest in the talons of whores

As for altars and firesides

By chance, out of shadow, we meet once again
On a raised precipice I can see his descent
From a nobler gale--Outrightly high-born
To terrestrial status; plebians forlorned
Of sceptors and pawns untried

This chase endures through drudge and rain
Until a clearing shines up ahead
Sun over hill breeds further disdain
The stranger, my captor, is me

Oh, what a corrupt and malicious find!
Envenomed inside, not company,
But drawn aloof in my eyes;
Tear me out!
Loathing gone, near self-slay, lived and wronged
What ails me so is thy wrath o'er tolls
Of the dying, the sick, and the damned
The scorned shore of lost seas holds more
Dark thoughts displeased, as to a man
Mourning his birth

Desecrate the vaginal tomb!

So long to maurauds of the most intrusive kind
The calling to taint and purge the rime
Like as steel wielding heathen
Rent through ice and bone
And cause the ills to be predisposed
Restless breath in the ear of the dead
Chants an opus; jests further intent
Worth not a curse in black eulogy
Cropping the head and feeding to please

Upon a solemn and misty grove
As laden gusts seethe
Through a tinged knoll
I see a faint figure, in follage enrobed,
Breathing as through me; a spiteful implore--

Altars!