The Scarlet Hordes of Autumn

So enter night sweet babe
For I embroider thee with pitch
Close thy eyes and sleep till dawn
And I’ll go onward
Stitch, by stitch
Children (of a later eve)
Hand from splintered, swollen, tiny, limbs
The breeze gently swaying, their bluing torsos
Deafening moans, null the dying, into a deeper place
Where it is hard for even demons to wake
Precious months, swallow hard
The rotting substenance of dear life
While the dismal Barth of Orthodox
Slashes to sip
Careful not to drip
Fondling, while his fingers slip
Skinless infants bound, by searching roots
Undulate, in adult sensuality
Servants, to the mindless rhythm of pain
«We are, the Scarlet Hordes of Autumn», echoes
The wild wild wood
Where the jackals play
«We all remained, that went that way»
Don’t stray from the path
He’s waiting for you
To smooth, the red sweat, from your shoulder blades
— Don't stray !