Phillips
Tongues are rattling and multiprattling, the thanatoid elite
That call the noisome, remorseless horsemen, we pray they into sleep
For when they're riding there is no hiding your face
Instant ambrose for distant decades, the same must speed relief
For tolls too briefly the sounds of mercy
I shall not hie to grief
In fear we ponder the use of thunder for peace
Moving rages divide the phases converging toward belief
That's being proven in all its union, there is no more retreat
And blind delusions maintain illusions too deep
Now flows the hour of cringe and cower, the strong become the weak
Negate your power and all to flower,
In pain we all are meek
In light beholden the ages golden we seek