The Great Beast Of The Cosmic Ocean

It rose From shriveled dust From the bones of a steed From the eyes of the night And into being They say that it is morose No, I have no words to say Behold In throes it harvests as it goes From dust to leaves Among the cedar trees With all of its caresses Forget now what you know Oh, and what will be tomorrow Lord, heavens only know Oh, it does not feel the sorrow Roam, the eyes they seek escape Say more Silence is intrepid wounds that scar up But not those synaptic, beat, take Fondle the fleeting moment Songs of sacred atonement, kneel, fool, fetch A chalice for another round one rip It groans the sinews of its stones Behind hive laws it's readying its claws A bell chimes three times In an intermittent jive Sublime When the beast becomes alive