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Cross Vault
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At Our Bleakest
Twas the bleakest, the coldest of days
Those of orifices running
Light had changed from grey to yellow
And we stood amidst, in most taking winds
I tilted my temple, took a tree above in sight
As did I the loins I held a thousand times before
But it was not the strongest grip they lay in this day
That with a manifold of fingers could not take control
'Twas here I sold you!', quoth the raspy voice
Under this very chestnut tree,
For I was put to the test and did not stand the wave
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'Twas two that sold one another!', quoth I
And spoke so in a voice stripped to the bone
For my words too were put to practice
And stood neither temptation, nor screams, nor fists
And as we stood we saw a phalanx of stars above
In which there was no betrayal, as was it devoid in us
And we all had sworn alliance, had it not been for pain and fright
And the peace of mind, the overarching bow
The most severe betrayal, the most severe denial
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