Sounds of Dread

O people of the infernal realm,
Where we come in every tone of voice.
Tear a bloody-handed wish and I shall grant you mine.
Your passing from this life,
and that is so, rejoice.
That light be told to take me to her soul
Her echoing voice...
Bright light, so terribly perfect
the red herald on the wind
I shall see her, so let us proceed.
God forbid that you cut off your leg,
The hidden axe wound that the numbers of history rewrite
Sounds of dread,
The feet on glass and words with mouths of copper
Her time and place
In every sign of them she will manifest.
See my shadow and I will see it done,
To cut the arms of dark gods in half
into milkwhite flesh
No crescent dawn for you to guide...