Within the frozen mirrors
of Arcadia and Earth,
the gelid darkness blazes
for all the light it's worth.
-
Take your sins upon your head,
a carnal mourning veil,
and stumble forward, weeping glass
along the torrid trail.
-
There stands a bridge to heaven
and a pool of clouded wax,
a pyre of torn petals
in blues and reds and blacks.
-
Shred your cloak into the flames
where Hell itself once stood,
and sink into the oil
as you sense the sandalwood.
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