The Becoming

Heartbeats, and I knew where art thou
Summoned by dust and the ashes
To hunt you in the boundaries of woe
Clawed by the fangs of the darkness

My irises burn, extinguished by dusk
Tongues forge the entrance, come to me
Complete, I shall claim you by flame of the dagger
By the whisper implied by another

Blood flows from my chalice to yours
When our sloughs in the fabric entwined
And the Styx that yet follows the lines of your cape
And the Lethe that runs between mine

The swords and the flames and the guards and the east
And the banished, dripping and wanting
Risen to welcome our inhuman zest
With a kiss to seal our death

Our spirits, serpentine, wrapped in the winds
Let us hunt, let us the forests!
I stand yet against the flame of the west
A moon, and a wolf, and Ashtoreth