The Wind Stands Silent

Overdue free-mason gathering
His eyes pale with anguish
His eyes blue and changing
Wander obscure in this forest

He found a monster
Born of his dire concentration
Rushed out like bulls on the mountain top
In torrents of mud

With eggs of unnatural premonition
Formed with hatching
Somehow down this hill.

An enormous dried serpent
Scaled his poisonous hoard
Approach uneven to its knee
He sat at his dark lord.

With the torrents he threw his fury on
Brave the conflict.

Inner poison
And grate the jealousy
But the dark lord spoke up
Ever be to his poisonous rock

Then he polished his rim
Driving his kingdom apart

But even now a black can be heard
A poison rock's place of silence
The eldest rocks of all
A little cloud is seen in the sand.

And so it is through the death of the monster
Send its rocks swimming and it will drown
The black cloud in the birth of a new god
And so saying in torment to the world.

He painted on his enormous rim
A circle of darkness.

And fixed his sill.