I slumber in this folding devine,
Of history that is mine.
Creeping forth through darkness submerged
Is my passion, converged
With the ominous flow of fates sway,
Beneath the bleak and empty day.
My body, a cowards vessile,
To transport an embezzle
The feelings that I daily retire
Into my black heart of fire.
Only through this empty passion
Of spiritual desire and holy power,
Can I truly break free of my earthly spire,
And rise to the top of a broken empire.

_Ben