Hand of the Host

It is him
Inviting though
Pleas are living
On their trust

And now the
Chosen children play
Never to
Lay rest

Hand of the host
Extending out
Forming figures
They who day dream wish

Bodies often scarred
From a thin lie
Perfect in it
Empty conception

To be devoured
By my lustful heart
I am called by her
Do as the wind

Through the halls
I am led

Following
I am led

Why then know
Each other's death?

Here lies another
This ancient myth
Heart pressed to the bone
Hurry anyone
His lonely soul
Fills the room

Our memory lies broken
Broken on the floor
Cast their all into the bout
Out and too alone they left her