a sortie, if the light ends, crawling with tied feet, murder and deceit and i crawl thru water caves dried where stormeds have ever left, songs bereft of simple times, crawling in the ashes and surviving mighty trees, breaking trees in forest fire is the only worry, i can breeth the backdraft and ride the flickering whiplash, a bolt from the length i suppose i could to the water, the body a feast wrapped in the product of danger and magic, uneaten, i've never seen men crawl thru their lives to just lay with the dead, falling in the darkness, and blind i am for wondering how the witch deserved to kill me had the vampires all let me ride from wolves along the stoming seashore, , and wrapped me up to poison cleaved my heart and better still, he mumbles will i drag him, thrill, and the binding that carries me alon g the cave floor is made of a make, is sake of a sage, is rage of areality of spell, silk made of asjh, asjch, instill, a fear of awakening myself to bound and dragged, surely i can cut free of this entanglement, and all my twisting breaks my hands against me, but the sand anent me tears at the threads of my doom, these old caves darker still and torch light shows bats and snakes and bones of both, i want my hands to be free so i roll aback, and smile to my captor who's skin is black and cool, the labor doesn't bother him and he retuns to wling away with me in tow, the hands are twisted druged beneathes thine body, a carapace of thouhts rapace infity and infinitely silent, a bone to cut my hand to free the binds and the bats asume me kind and drove to the trail i live of I, sooner spy that dark begins to brighten and I am left for better dead, as a spear becomes a lightning wind to strike me loos and after my heart to start, stopping thoughts i race to the fire and leap into it, the ashed made webbing does not burn of macgic unfoleded and heats me to the core by my wounds to sere shuty fore, by the hitherto of lore check the foe onto the wall, a ghasp of feels apal, i am free by chains of razors and pained by freedom to resent, later should i have thought and mallet makes my temple, judgement from the simple and short, i retort resorting that the table it thrown to the fireplace and the light barely shines to faces and our eyes are all that glow, so i run my fingers thru him to the marrow of his bones, grasping breaking clawing broken like a serpent on the throne, in theis makeup of rapid succession the darkness leaves the bats to hone and i am onyl a meal and alone, by the thousands to me flying are the sky rats nil postponed such to dash into the tunnels with the snakes and withwthi bone powder, i stumble and into rats and smashed over burdened those i grab are bloody thrown dieterrent decoys of the posture of fresh loam, into the darkness a wall, a cavern, my magic furious and seriously heightened i glow like a fae at a cavern in a mountaini fall againin the blood and of snakes under my bots, they are safe and i am attacked to flooed of wings of darkness brace for cliche repartee, the bats follow me downward and the snakes lash and leap and strike to eat, scales almost like darkness in the deep, i fall into the pit of the scales and spines of snakes, they snanp and leap and jump above us, above themselves at the bats and i am save, safed, cloaked and captured and locked as they coil the swarm the primordial warmsth of demonoloy, i relax, this is my fate, they cover my eyes, i target action and can't imagine fear at any all, i will swim in the tall tails of creatures, my hand too high they bite and without tearing me or tratangling me they traipse my mortality with the venom of the blind i a am tainted, i am strong with delusion and hallucination, and i stand on themtheir blood grinding coiling wretched sinew onto the sound of crunching bones, and the bats wings in the air tear the dark and silent conciousness to a fervor of furor of winded storm of color and fear and climate of the tru seer, below the scales are the eyes i imagined had i, below the bodies are the stones of older bones of man and reptile, farther textile truth were this the echoing throes of insanity bright bestial vanity the stones are diamonds and the magic is my own, as my blod pours over my boots and mixes with the serpents of endless violence to the crystals, the old magic of the the world consumes my heart in connection with the tomb, by the rivers of the ages thru the underworld resume i am star and birth asunder mountain rising with the power of the moon