A Bouquet Of Blood For Skull - Leviathan

Crush the dried petals

Of the rose

That bore light

Brandishing talons

At the sun

Yawning and empty

The petals wither

Only grayed stem remains

Revive the silence

That the stars will again shine

Weep not for chalice

And not for lurking inspiration

But for relief from grace

Finally within grasp

Constellation