Novena Without Faith - ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

Oh isis… hydatyd…

You’re blood lips

Surround me in

This hallway.

Cannon lust in

All this tumult…

Tied to the pathos… a revolt

You’re a slur…

She’s a slur…

And all the space between

Certain illusions…

Is the cause of rips…

Cracks and your face

We’ll wrinkle into nothing

Floorboards and passing headlights…

Any gate will reveal

Itself to me…

As a thief in the night

Oh isis… hydatyd