To the Slaughter

Daylight breaks the silence of crude pleasures long abhorred
Awakening to older sighs that breach pain from within
Sordid treasures in the dark, far-flung from carnal halls
The voices utter chaos a paradox of whims
For madness creeps within the mind of others laced with sin

A millennia of wanton acts liken him to death
A procrastinator of faith he guides sermons to the fall
Of poisoned tongues that lick and sting at weak ones in the maw
A paradise long lost at servitudes lost kiss
A deeper wretch to harken forth their suffering abroad

The fauna of these wasted days a gift of time surpassed
The stars above long adored writhe with sadist lust
The sickness of disorder to give rise to heresy
Hearty is the one so in love with himself
An ego for the ages surpassing innocents grace
Coiled in observance stalking prey to cage and play