Altar Of Plagues Feather And Bone
It is a familiar place that the road leads toward.
Forever dying and stripped of all but nothing and fed to
nothing.
Wide eye cannot see the beyond, they will not look upon
it's face.
The ride to that which has no soul, the ride to
nothingness.
Words fall empty, words filled with heart
The wide distance pulls us apart.
Horses are rapid and ready. White light chases light.
