Praises

I wandered wastes of ash and stone
Where winds would gnaw and sing its tone
No mortal tongue could still my plight
Only whispers of deceit in the night

Yet in the black of heavens torn
I found wisdom carved in relics worn
Bones of saints, their silent cries
Echoed truths where hope yet dies

The lamb’s triumph was blood-etched lore
A feast where shadows weep and adore
Salvation writ in iron chains
In hymns of fire and eternal pains

Within the cloisters of the dead
Where incense cloaks what once was dread
The liturgy sung by tongues long gone
Relics writhe, yet never move on

Revelation came, a curse and gift
Through darkest void, the veil would lift
My knees collapsed on sacred dust
Before an altar that offered all trust

The mark was burned, thrice holy, thrice grim
A seal of light, though shadows brim
I stand unwhole, yet wholly bound
In darkness deep where faith is found