Chapter Twenty-four

 

I am the House

imprisoning in my birth

demonic hearts,

so locked in each chamber

some trembling enraged

antiquity.

And these roots of stone

spread the deepest cracks

in parched ground

holding forever the dream

of fruit, ah, pilgrims

come to my door

and starve . . .

AZATH (II.III)
ADAEPHON (B.?)