Hollow Branches - Wrath of The Earth

IRA TERRAE SUM ET PULCHRITUDO FLORUM EIUS A crown of antlers roots through my skull, Sap drips in rivulets down my throat. In the orchard of bones, the wind sings, Petals swirl over a harvest of skulls, And I breathe the hymns of famine and bloom. I drink from the hollow where rivers rot, Taste the sweetness of marrow in moss. Bees hum dirges in the ribs of kings, While lilies burst from the sockets of saints, I am famine’s fang and the dawn’s first rose, The blight that feeds the spring’s return. IRA TERRAE SUM ET PULCHRITUDO FLORUM EIUS Let the living kneel in the grave’s green glow, Let their breath feed the fevered blossoms. IRA TERRAE SUM ET PULCHRITUDO FLORUM EIUS I am the wrath of the earth… …and the beauty of its blossoms. The soil swells with the memory of plagues, Every leaf trembles with blood unspoken. I sew gardens in the bellies of the dead, Wheat and thorn feeding upon each other, Where I walk, silence blooms like fire, And the forests drink deep of the fallen. In the black orchard, the moon hangs low, White as a seed in a crow’s dark beak. From my hands, blooms unfurl like mouths, Whispering sermons of rot and renewal. IRA TERRAE SUM ET PULCHRITUDO FLORUM EIUS Let the living kneel in the grave’s green glow, Let their breath feed the fevered blossoms. IRA TERRAE SUM ET PULCHRITUDO FLORUM EIUS I am the wrath of the earth… …and the beauty of its blossoms. Let the living kneel in the grave’s green glow, Let their breath feed the fevered bloom. I am the wrath of the earth… …and the beauty of its blossoms.