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de Damascus Worship

Burial In The Emerald Season
BURIAL IN THE EMERALD SEASON

|Red hued water cements upon her lips
her frail greying flesh
decay under my fingertips
so proud so bold
upon what I have done
unveiled from the ivory
lays her corpse
the snow is gone

|The queen be rotting

|A sylph so gracefully declined under haunting summer sun
whilst the birds return to clean the bones of the stalest one
I remember the site of last frozen breath, I had brought her
to a corpse-shell rest
indecency had become of me when her spirit so unclean
exultant with undeserved success
I just the peasant her end so pleasent
prepare the fires of hell I gladly descend

|Beneath the tree leaves, she will slumber
entwined around her, the roots a sepulcher

|Her frail corpse lay cross thy arms
drapped in a forest burial gown
her essence is bound
with the body and soul of the woods
she becomes one with the earth

|Neath green, arms and forest light
wind rustles the trees through day and night
whilst her unburied body lie
funeral in the season of life

|Diseased the hate for her
but a new guilt rives
tearing my soul asunder
won't rest at ease tonight

|Burial in the emerald season
new found abode in the thriving
forest floor, the queen lay forever more,
sealed in roots as a sepulcher

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