Of Wretched Things Pt. 2 the Well

Looking glass, scry
with eyes you plucked
from the weeping sky
so blessed is the seed
that harbors your hate
so blessed is your fruit
that tastes of hell

Sharpen your roots
and stab the earth
cover your jewels
with that wicked dirt
and hollow your bones-
fill them with disease
from the bottom
of the Well

I felt a child cry
somewhere your young
are left to die
somewhere blood shrivels
forgotten, in rivers
pulled from the earth-
the bottom of the Well

I kept time with the bells
watcher of the drums
that beat for every heart
of cities felled
I am the keeper of legends
of empires crumbled
I am the keeper of passage-
I guard the Veil

so grind your claws
against its stones
insatiable and restless
jaded and reckless

I watched you break
the very laws you set
on those little worms
that grovel at your feet
and writhe for a taste
of the love that you fake
from the wretched confines
of the bottom of the Well