He Whom Makes the Twilight Weep

A tyrant like no other
The writhing of a thousand slaves
To light the sky with their dismay
Beauty through carnal disorder
A taffeta of his delights shine upon the wary skies

Somber to those sordid few
A cult of conspiracy gives life to lies
Astral bodies forsake the eye
Centered upon the oblivious
His tide does rise

Rejoice in the distant stars
Held in bondage to he whom makes the twilight weep
Reeping darkness as it was
Primordial and absent of life
As it was in the beginning