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Asmodeus
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Sator Discordiae
As twilight befalls
This never ending day,
It tints the horizon into
An adumbrating red.
It seems to reflect my severe wounds
But I respire within a cold breeze.
I invoke the icy winds to sweep upon
My desecrated countenance.
They shall be the remedy
From northern domains
To re-engender the estimation
Which I once held.
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Their irascibleness
Should spill forth
The envy in my veins
And their unsulled
Hands should disperse
The germ of the ergot
Into the furrowed soil.
There should be
Bred the discord
Which would be
Spread like a wildfire.
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