the sacred vision

A fiery wind leapes into the mouth of a cursed crypt, charging through an empty asylum
It writhes in pain when slipping through the icy, barbed air of the hidden mausoleum
The wind lets out a terrified howl when entering the hall that was sealed
On a throne of bones, a spire of everscreaming, muted madness rises into darkness not revealed

A behemoth zealot stands guard by the altar at the steps of the thrones' stairs
A thousand eyes glimmers when disturbed by the wind, servants that crept here from their lairs

Fumes of blood ensnares the tormented wind and brings it before a monolith crowned with a halo of shadows
Runic prophecies burst into a ravenous zeal and a stairwell of incantations descends before the forlorn one Reborn that no god hallows...




Poetry by Rex Panthera
Read 448 times
Written on 2007-03-13 at 07:57

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Janine>K
Where do you dig out all these powerful words? Man I wish I were as talented as you... once again well done!! I wish I had more time these days to read your poems. Your words sends my imagination to planet "nowhere"; just where everybody wants to be after a busy day
2007-04-30