You there, with your

time-warped insanity

Wings of snow


I do not admire your

golden horns

Your dexterity


I cannot see you for

a sage

Not a savant


I will not fight usque ad finem

My deference

My Dear, Reverence


I have no repose

For there is no time

For there is no Blessing in


My name, my life

No Blessing,

for I have lived abhorrently


Anathema is your name

To me, that is you

To me, that is who


I am to you

For I have fought,

with the wind and the sky


Ensuring your

up-most demise

Your quietus


In this time, I have

continued these fallacies

My misapprehension


You are mine,

my truth

Beau, not Anathema


Anathema will never be

You, who

is my Dear, Reverence