Poem XIV

Living on, soon to fly
Oh how many times I have died
Suspended in venomous air
Staked through the chest
In the bowels of despair

Friend becomes foe
Family a fucking plague
Beneath the bastions of cognizance
Where the roots of life lay

A perversion of me
The degradation of my name
Pointing gnarled fingers
At the shells of the decayed

Me, the undesired
That even vultures refuse
The pellet of the owl
Spat upon writhing forest grounds

Flesh dispersed in silence
Devoid of supple passersby
Only known to disparate devourers
In melancholia ever so void

Grant me thy suffering
Observer oh naught
That I may slay this world
That I may unknot

Oh lion, oh serpent, oh sun
Trinity within me consume the one
Consume the enemy within
The failed bastard
That I may exit the cunt again