Look to the setting embers of a dying day,
And call upon each glowing jewel.
Run for the cover of solid walls,
And mark the compass points.
I do prowl this land upon my claws,
And wait for those who do not care.
Make ward of iron and smear blood of lamb,
Upon cross beams and threshold.
With ravenous hunger I stalk outside,
Within the cover of midnight.
Waiting to find an unbeliever,
Who is to pig headed to care.
Oh to set upon delicious flesh,
So rooted in its own ignorance.
Let me bath among this spilled blood,
And dance with sinew upon each bone.
You’ll adorn forever the catacombs of my lair,
Fixing with a supplicating smile.
I’ll adorn your skull with all manners of mantles,
As you finally repose in death’s humility.
Always to remember you fateful choice,
Of forgetting to care beyond you’re own ignorance.