Rewrite of Eden

a hemlock infusion, a velvet delusion, a cathedral in doss, a rewrite of Eden, the carrion feeding, the weight of the cross, a stained glass fracture, a candle's last gasp, a bitter draft, blood rotting in a wine glass, an unhallowed posture, the ghost of a gesture, a moth-eaten shroud, the dark sisters and I drink the vesper-light dry as the whispers get loud, the empire is yours with its iron and wars and its hymns to the grave, the salt in the throat of the saint and the note that the heretic gave, the throne room is filled with the vengeful mob and the witches you killed come to reclaim what was robbed, the architect dies but the shadow survives the collapse of the hall, I am the vine that adorned the shrine and the nectar of the fall, the scriptures are torn for the stars were unborn when I first learned to be, I am the rust on the blade and the phantom in the shade of your high altar tree, the ink on the page was a cage for an age that was never meant for me, I am the silence that follows the violence and the sting of the flea, your heavens are small, just a crack in the wall of a vast, dark decree, I am the moth in the nave and the bloom on the grave of a dead century