Brothers Halcyonaire

A Hymn revering the parts of life in which we experience Dread,
Or reverence based in fear:
Serpent drank is serpent conquered—as empty Tomb. Four days to thaw what froze, four days watched the crow; adultered minds birth thoughts swaddled in fear. The cougar prowls; her head she bows: indecision is a cold grave. The cult-tongue whisper speaks closed our cult-eyes in a prayer, whose end is spoken by the sunrise, but: Might it not Hell be? I'm lonely in my bones. Hidden from heaven in the brambles and bushes the lovers laid down and the pale wolves howled. Feeling threadbare, worn too thin. If I've the heart to stand. When I die, the ground will silence my: cry. As I lay; but until then I will curse.