My lord stopped questing face death lingers like a vulture in morning hands of skill dance in the ink left for those in need thoughts souring My mistress demands her share of body used by wine and song body in need of passion to drive the fear in the night to live Cripple with cane falls into the depth of sorrow dried Eager they are to take the pouch left in pearl handle dressed all the comforts of a lady lay at his call in warmth priest confessed   Sword drawn for use in service of angels to be held this night service met in a need of persona leveled fate takes her life Mat laid in view for comfort holding image of repent lost Body tied torrid adventure waiting soul searching voice and heat cold wind passes the souls making their way across great feat  Sleep results of burden sought found dispensed of hell awaits him bounty paid oars man screams from the lash applied flesh removes skin Evil cast out to be replaced by higher stronger to fill the void Pilgrim takes his fight to a source burning in fields of wanton need evil seeks wanton feed of man and woman taken with their seed Wagon turns a place deep forged in image of placed mud rung high scream from inside burns loose a pain borne of woman promised No feeling left to hold or take into the source of death and birth Tree burns hunger waits snake slithers away baby feeds on breast birth invades world divided heaven or hell dance life Cain and Able dressed Life works way into poor boy sees only what is given no living here Ghost finds the will as Dove falls as fire from a lithe scattered by fear My lord cries a farewell to all who drowned in his blood let on the deck My master is now gone but my heart yearns for his touch his saving touch