Standard Bearer

Atmosphere peers in as witnessed guide Playing silent the light a curse of the eye Distant drum beats, blood keeping time as the encampment machines turn Seer flips an hourglass measuring the polarity and equity of the fall Deserters, heads filling the holes increments of inclement, cement ed dissent of traitorous mole, ducking tale, tucking trail motions of churn, taken the asundered call Into the pit of dry foaming foment to take the moments from one and all The sconses lick hungrily at an invisible crevace beyond the wall As if to escape the dire situation Dancing shadows mocking with the flame Threats to soot on, even urning to you hieroglyphic mummified remains of the blame An operative to take the walls as an agent of willed imagery, with intent effigy chasing Voodoo, if self placing, if only in symbology it signs its name, yours it seeks erasing Sways like an imbecile to the drums that roll on chTantric Seasoning Chancing luck, diced to taste, the only salvation Old Men milk the ink and the pages complain of the hurried-station, airy, brash, the callous flap But still there to give their credence credulity and their backs Thick the cool salve over the eye Nor reap the fruit of the Harvester Be not a Mothers bag pulled dry While the challenge is chalice ready, epic, nigh The Standard bears the last stand with royal severity, the last strand of the integrity Walk the great halls, echo that Nativity That takes the line with Authority