Tongues of Wild Boar

Lick my chapped lipson disdain
The wins did not burn my desire
Pickle preserve in the remains of
A once all consuming fire

Ply a needle in the eye
Of a storm that's brewing at the sea
Feel the weight as heavy sky
Disguise the urges of my plea

Seek the cinders to transmit
A heat that will keep us afoot
And raise white lanterns on the morrow
Healing beams into this trough

Tongues of wild boar gave me your word
Tongues of wild boar
Tongues of wild boar gave me your word
Tongues of wild boar