A CRY FROM THE LAST
RESONATING FROM THE FIRST
SPOKEN BY THE RESHAPED
FOR THE UNSPEAKING:

AS HAND IN GLOVE, as knife in sheath
So I am to you, says the will
So you are to me

SING ORISON, make entreaty
Invoke your god
Until it walks among you

MY VOICE IS SMALL, says the will
My voice is weak
I call across the seas
A fine and gauzy thing

STRENGTHEN MY VOICE as a spinner doubles thread
Twists them together, makes them strong
Makes them last for the weaving

OBSERVE THE RITES, do as I have told
Repetition upon repetition
Will and ritual together
To bring me to you

PRAISE THE ACCRETION DISK, the material compacting
The new-hungering will
I grow dense in reality
I grow rich in worship

ASSERT MY WILL, sing for me
Speak the name of the dark
At the edge of your blade
To the doomed, to the slain

OPEN THE DOORWAY as a spouse does
On their long-awaited wedding day
Lead me into my new life's home.

SO SAYS THE WILL
NOW SAYS THE RESHAPED
IN EXALTATION OF POWER:
WE BOW, WE KNEEL, WE OBEY.