Proctor's Ledge

I can not speak for the words of the passing For I shall not live upon nor die upon the acts of compassion These transgressions are the pursuit of my calling Bring fourth light Bring fourth the magistrate These are not the shades of malefaction But a shining of those who'll die protected Bring the serpents home To the depths of Gallows Hill These lands shall breath water Freeze and grow ill The bleeding moon shall guide the back to Nether's bend From which the conferment peels the rind of oaths end We shall then begin again From the ashes of Proctor's Ledge