| An archangel in bondage,
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| bediademed, sold
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| with a murder of ravens,
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| but no less astarte to behold.
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| abandoned by heaven to the dead, dark & past,
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| cast her dispersions on life’s brittle glass.
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| And though her eyes still held fire
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| as stone walls caged the beast,
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| 'gainst the lassitudes of death
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| she fought but failed to greet.
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| Midst lies in collusion
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| she was matyred to teach that:
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| (girl) «divinity & lust are forever forbidden to meet»
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| But i swore that they would
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| before the veil could part our embrace.
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| twixt her cold silent hips i kissed
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| and promised christendom in —
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| flames…
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| Gravid with madness like a feculent dirge
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| that obsesses my heart
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| i am convened by words
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| to avenge her
|
| ebon splendour
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| and surrender
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| my soul to the dead to achieve prophecies
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| of libidinous scourge
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| horripilation braying over carrious herds
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| vexing nightmares
|
| and their weak prayers
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| to a no one there
|
| to hinder her decree
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| to weed the world of their disease
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| As shadows unblind mine eyes to see
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| the meat that is their congregation
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| Oh how they plead to the skies
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| but this is mere foreplay to war…
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| Scar-riddled safron eaves bleed like the conjugal
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| vestal daughters giving throat to the priest
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| a sycophant, the despoiler of faith
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| now his skinless crucifixion needs a winged diocese…
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| For her interred i tore a battle banner from his side,
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| splashed in red goetia,
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| hues of hell & deicide
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| Here comes the night
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| its obsidian light
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| is a master whom disasters
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| suck upon like concubines
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| and under black skirts
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| that whisper of delight
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| dark seeds in fruition
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| darkened deeds to marry mine
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| (girl) «in death’s bed i have lain
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| paying lip service to shame,
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| but for dreaming of thee i regain
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| i reason to seek life again.»
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| And we smite the divine
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| for our true nature is sin.
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| to strip tender flesh from these swine
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| like the lick of carnivorous winds…
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| The breath of destruction begins…
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| by forcing its herod tongue in…
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| to. |
| the womb of the holy virgin…
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| to taste of immaculate
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| sin
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| From temptation’s peak we will see world unfurled at last
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| now the wolves of time will stalk mankind,
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| shall be as one in grim repast…
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| Commemorating sickle moons
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| the pack are poised to reap
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| a scythe of white roses in bloom
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| whose twisted thorns will keep
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| the crown upon a dead man
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| daylights crucified in sleep.
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| and lives that hide in scriptured lies
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| to the memory of a scream…
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| And we shall dance amid the ruins
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| as adam and evil
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| dizzy at the falling stars
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| that burn fiercer in throes of upheaval.
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| If all must we damn for this moment that it shall be so.
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| both our souls have crossed oceans of time
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| to grasp one another more tightly than death could alone
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| As zyklon beasts reign to make carrion crawl…
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| their talons of lust rake a clarion
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| call…
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| To the lick of carnivorous winds…
|
| Gravid with madness like a feculent dirge
|
| that obsesses my heart
|
| i am convened by words
|
| to avenge her
|
| ebon splendour
|
| and surrender
|
| my soul to the dead to achieve prophecies
|
| of libidinous scourge
|
| horripilation braying over carrious herds
|
| vexing nightmares
|
| and their weak prayers
|
| to a no one there
|
| to hinder her decree
|
| to weed the world of their disease
|
| As shadows unblind mine eyes to see
|
| the meat that is their congregation.
|
| (anyone who knows these last lines, please email me) |