Unsummoned - Atrox

Now is the third season

The season I don’t long

Cause it is here

And you are gone

You were the Incubus

Who raped my sleeping mind

Awake — pain was the master

I crawled in a chasm

But now

Unsown seeds germinate

Unplanted trees bear fruits

The spell is broken

Unsummoned reveries gather

Unwinged thoughts fly

Wind rapidly swings its arms

Takes fruits from the trees

And flings them away

But what’s ripe falls

Nevertheless

To the ground