sleep still and silent dream in stained glass scenes of violence claim the song sung by the sirens breath shallow and quietly stand before the corpse of the crow take up the blade that struck the final blow tear off the wings to refuse its ascension there will be no reproach there will be no redemption for the wicked and corrupt at the end of its life only justice from the absolute with a flick of a knife back to where it all began tracing footprints to the shore they lead into the ocean where the horror waits no more in its place waits utter devotion the current casting backward tells of lifetime past the empty faces that once seemed listless have all now been recast but when lost in distant thoughts a sleeping evil starts to stir distracted by warm memories with vigilance relaxed it seemed unlikely to occur tear off the wings to refuse its ascension there will be no reproach there will be no redemption a breach in the bow would allow the craft to sink again reaching down to tear the wings from the crow conquered in complete experience a transformation both of body and of mind rearrange the constellations and define the undefined the returned speaks in tongues once bewildering but in its hands sit the wings and the dagger that say everything without a word it says everything tore off the wings to refuse its ascension there will be no second coming no forces for succumbing to just a peaceful place to finally rest a head the crow is dead go back to sleep the sun is finally setting and you can rest you weary head for now