Thou Bade Nothingness

In times, when I fain of a season
Itcs chill hold me wist, of an unknown reason
Greyness upon streams parlous and cool
Sheer the light which reflects from Plenilune.

Ready to tale stars of wan, as both forwandered
And loath the ways thee all ran astounded
So did thine glaive rust with wind and water
So terrified of fallow thee roamed to gutter.

Perhaps the fragments of thine willing skin
Saw no reflections of, what it called a bale king
Neither have Fall's shades descended to leaves
Of no nightbird's ashes belong to mine needs.

Together a battle raged between moon
Likely the escorts of an velvect son
One lode led to forhungered wood
The frith were dark and thus thou run.

As I see nothing but mere piece of meat
Trying to achieve as vision holds lack
Hanging upon wold, not wist the made plead
Twisting in gloam, this path fares not back...

Thus...Of no nightbird's ashes shall I devour.