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Beneath the Veiled Mother

The doors groan wide — the cathedral breathes A thousand pipes scream blasphemous pleas Organ hammers bone and stone Cursed hands play it all alone Steel is drawn, the chant is set Footsteps fade — Torin slips to shadowed steps Statue weeps where secrets sleep Stone-bound truths the sewers keep Ghoulish form at the altar throne Three pale wails not born alone Hissing venom, sacred rage “Defile her form and seal your fate” Sing — sing — you cursed choir of pain Glass falls like rain in her holy name Clap of thunder, sound made flesh Art becomes wrath — faith put to the test Sing — sing — till the cathedral bleeds We don’t kneel to broken gods or dead decrees Wailing eyes pierce rogue and soul Fear stares back — but Torin holds Daggers fly, one strikes true One more ghost comes clawing through Holy steel, ethereal hammer Guiding light — the first one shatters Arcane fire, a ghost erased Magic dust in sacred space “Feel the god of art’s embrace” Stained glass screams and scars their face Blood and terror, floor awash Choirmaster claps — a sonic crash Sing — sing — my pretties cry Ghosts tear flesh as faith runs dry Choir scatters, reappears Every strike feeds pain and fear Sing — sing — till voices choke On shattered hymns and blasphemed hope Rilrae bleeds but laughs through pain “Is that all?” — she stands again Faerie fire cuts the dark Truth ignites the monster’s mark Chains of faith — divinity roars Undead halt, denied once more A dagger flies — a miscast fate Steel in flesh — “OW—my ass!” too late TURN THEM BACK LIGHT THEM UP BURN THEM DOWN Clap — glass — scream — fall Heroes break, but still stand tall Ghosts erased in hellish flame The choir dwindles, screams his name The organ shrieks — pitch climbs higher Bodies drop to cursed desire Veiled Mother — frozen hand Torin locked in silent command Silas falls to whispered lies Words like knives behind his eyes SING — SING — YOUR FINAL HYMN ONE MORE CLAP — LET THE ROOF CAVE IN BLEED THE FAITH FROM STONE AND BONE YOU DIE HERE — YOU DIE ALONE SING — SING — NO GOD TO SAVE JUST A GHOST IN A MARBLE GRAVE Red-purple blast — the final word A ghostly head — absurd, absurd The organ dies. The echoes fall. Cathedral quiet. Bodies breathe. Heroes crawl.