I sip the blood-red wine my thoughts weigh heavy with the burden of time from knowledge drunk from the fountain of life from Chaos born out of love and the scythe the forest beckons with her nocturnal call to pull me close amid the baying of wolves where the bindings of christ are down-trodden with scorn in the dark, odiferous earth We embrace like two lovers at death a monument to the trapping of breath as restriction is bled from the veins of my neck to drop roses on my marbled breast I lust for the wind and the flurry of leaves and the perfume of flesh on the murderous breeze to learn from the dark and the voices between...