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Mesmerizing beauty, the vengeful strike of she;
The man before her aghast and in fright that she might leave.
To speak of things so foul, she utters a blasphemy.
Onwards she flies unto the dark, Red Sea.
Her action of a choice, given mercy by-those three who wonder and speak hearken’ a lie.
Yet she bares no soul, and curses those of flight,
For she bares the children,
Of those who fear the light.
Onwards she must go, so that she may rein, as her children live to strike on those of young in vein.
For since it is she who is mother of all that lurks beneath the shadows-
The Reaper very well may be helpless to to bring her uttered head
to the Hell of living gallows.

Yes, the mark of the beast, its mark is my sin.
I’ve talked with and eaten, and walked with its kin.
Iv’e joined in its earnings, I’ve prayed in its light;
the light of the moon, the moon of the night.
‘oh yes, the mark of the beast, settled on skin.
pray it shall leave, prayers ware thin.
the mark of a beast, is said to have lived;
lived in its dirtiest, and harmonious of sin.
And yet I have succumbed, to the mark of the beast.
for the four legged creature, is not mine to keep.
‘yes, this four legged beast.
‘yes the mark that turns east.
‘the mark of the beast, is with what I shall pay;
for the mark of the beast cannot be kept at bay.
the mark of the beast, it’s mark is my sin.
‘it’s sin I shall reap, and never rejoice in.
-R

There it is...
The silent song.
It’s solemn sound, of wretched wrongs.
There it is...
The singing call, of all there is, of all we haul.
The sin shall cover our hands.
The redemption much too far astray...
And so the song will sing-to wash our sin away.
-XREAPERX