Land of the Young
12th day of the Bull, Cycle 1043
And lo,
Did the piercing horns of the Ur-King
Grow forth from the depth of the damp earth
Reaching upwards to part the sky
As once had been foretold
And did blood not run then
As if water
As if fire
As if air
And too,
That blood which is foul and sticky and smells of metal
Did it not run?
And lo,
Did the shimmering scales of the Nine-Headed Beast
Appear before the world on the body of a man
Tearing apart sea and stone
As even man himself had warned
And did blood not run then
As if water
As if fire
As if air
And too,
That blood which is foul and sticky and smells of metal
Did we not drown in it?
And lo,
Did the pounding hoofbeats of the Riders of Death
Shake down the walls of our last sanctuary
To part us from our flesh
Stained red in the blood of their brethren
And did blood not run then
As if water
As if fire
As if air
And too,
That blood which is foul and sticky and smells of metal
Did it not run most of all?
And lo,
Does the sound of the long sleeping Deep Ones
Come to our ears as the heartbeat of the earth
Shall it rend the ground beneath us
As was promised long ago
And will blood not run now
As if water
As if fire
As if air
And too,
That blood which is foul and sticky and smells of metal
Will it run the last?
And yet,
Shall the difference of us be sacrificed
And our own impressions cast aside
Such that the Phoenix Queen may rise from the ashes
For we shall make it so
And blood will run
As if water
As if fire
As if air
And too,
That blood which is foul and sticky and smells of metal
So shall we bathe in it
And find a sweetness in the taste
