This Barren Skin

May I wear you this night 
As we marvel at our death 
I would wane within your art 
As you would become me 

Like ashes circling the pyre 
With virtues of the seraphim 
While prancing indifferently 
Amid the devil's fingers 

The sun, the moon 
Our garments of glee and distress 
In their wake we are born dying 
Voicing insignificance 

Awake with me into glacial skies 
As the earth below lies august 
Should time be meek we may drink 
Of oceans of ageless silence 

The north is unfurling 
It's presence welded on us 
Latent - a monument 
Amid ethereal bosoms 

We kneel in tragedy on tundra 
This barren skin 
Ailing slaves to the word 
Within the rigid commandment of woe 

Shackles corrode lesions 
In the morning regions 
Where the pores expose 
Beneath a cynical host 

Designs of irony 
Raped and bereft of all 
In a sigh of ephemeral room 
And eternal baptism of fire