Ikenbon of Flame and Heart ** Zanthaos ** Mahareil

ledworldnuke's picture

This guardian of treasured doors and irreverasable pathways stands sentinel
Roads of scattered light drifting off into the hearts of severed stars
Where light and metal take shape and motion, fire burning into copper and scorched steel
Arrows cast as falling stars loosing the blue as they throw themselves into eyes scarred by telescopes
Ruin the architect and the dreamer, ruin the artist and the lover, ruin the earth in reclamation

These children so void of light, these creatures so encompassed by hate
Dust born hearts left to drink from an ocean of darkness stretching from their vaulted ceiling of stars
Begotten twilight leading to the heavens pouring out from closed eyes and stitched mouths
Eclipsed and forogtten, the remnant of of some hollow truth spoken only by comets and constellations
Ikenbon of flame and heart


Saturn is calling, the spinning rings crying through the tapestry of space
A sound that crawls inside this skull, touching and pushing thoughts into rhythm
Conjuring manifestations from the world soul, opening nailed doors
The cloud of phantasms brushing against the rasping cogs of this mind
Becoming a fog that coils itself over my third eye
And a pulsing light that echoes silently against the dark side of this crystal house

The temples of the sky have fallen, the hanging gardens burning down
Fire rains in a tempest over the oceans of molten glass
Dim the eyes of the angels, and cloud the ethers with a veil of shooting stars
Shaking hands were never meant to catch the fading hours
Moments once precious, spill through the hourglass, grain by grain
One binding truth sounding through the storms

The weight of decisions falls, not to the kings and the stars, but into these cut hands
Dragging and choking me beneath the frame of smoking waters
All while the winged serpents spill out from these splintered doors
Mirrors once brilliant have shattered into gateways from which the seraphs scout
Their arms stretching out with arrows to pierce this fleeting wooden husk
Punching wounds into these paper eyes

The ancient tree has come undone, a golden spear driven deep into its soul
Letting amber tears spill down into the vanishing ground
My demons have risen from their beds, clawing their way into my bastion heart
Each screaming some fragmented dream or blissful sin
As they drag their blood soaked hands through this graying shell
Harvesting the light that spills from the Spirit’s cup


Pluto is calling, frigid constructs and forgotten echoes forging tempests
Frost born storms carrying the whispers of looming serpents
The murmur of demons slowly summoning bloodied hands against my crystal door
Marking and scarring hallowed gateways with catalyst insignias
Drinking deep from the serpent’s cup, grasping the tendrils of hell bound smoke
The devil with his hand lead me down, in darkness I fell
Drowning in cold, these lungs filling with silver
The fever of death infecting these eyes, spilling hot ash across my intent
Sinking beneath these tides, chains of destruction shackled around these wrists
My drifting hands stretching out to catch the raining blades
The mark and scar that serves as a deadbolt on shattered doors
Locks and chains, keys and gates were only halos to bind the hands of my demons
Consumed by these shadows, each with their lasting mark and poisons
It becomes impossible to exist so far from light even when I’ve been staring into the sun
The remnants of shattered hope still cut and scar, bringing new wounds
“Who’s left to defend?