deepundergroundpoetry.com
- - - IMMORTAL - - -
Celestial epilogues remain beyond reach
The ending evades like vile phantoms that leech
Serpent tongues speak of faerie chapter verse
The curse in reverse masquerading as lovers submersed
In churning waters of slaughter, chaotic, obscured
A ravensong uttered within the dismay
Jealous knives in the Theatre of Pompey
Even the devil knows we suffered too long
The torments of Hell and the agony of chains
This highway is empty but for hollow bones
Lining my path, if alone, wherein lies the pain?
If not me, who then will suffer the shadows
Leaching the life from those innocent thralls
Falling or crawling from spires and below
Echoing the screams from damnation halls?
Sever the veins pumping blood from me, henceforth
Pool it beneath me with the storms of the north
Failure shines in eyes of the unjust
The rust and the lust of angelic crusts in winter gusts
‘Neath crescent moonlight and dead night beside Erebus
Betrayal hung, heavily, in weeping trees
And shrouding the Garden of Gethsemane
My heart sleeps in a canopic jar
Preserved for eternal torment
Witchcraft woven by concubines
Reserved in haunted laments
The womb of doom split open
For mourning moons, broken
Thus is the tale of my descent
Thy orchestra plays tunes of the crimson chaste
Pouring from the succubi just for a taste
“Madness pours from Satan’s phallus
To the mouths of legions scorned by God
Cunting bitch and bastard caress
Groping the last vestiges
Of righteous blood”
Curtains of velvety sin
Entertain holy glory holes
Necro-fantasies and Lovecraft
Bells in the air
Toll their despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
I miss the murder
Of crows in summer flight
The distant thunder
Unseen in moonless night
In mid October
Gnashing sodomites
Coked out or sober
Screaming for cenobites
Eyeless with death’s head grin
I’m watching the legions of damned
Begging upon their bleeding knees
Rot in the air
Stinks of despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
I crave the hunger
Of lions for Christians
Nights become sundered
With saboteur mischief
No resurrection
For followers of fraud
My imperfection
Shines before holy God
“Laughter within haunted hallways
Above where Stygian waters flow
Pyres burn with infernal blaze
Ares and Aphrodite
Fuck to murdered crows”
Obsidian skies hang over early dawn
Renewing the doom by old kings and khans
I spat, bitterly, on the hourglass
The casque of the last noblemen of cold houses, outclassed
When the desire of fire fails in black mass
Crucifixions will no longer redeem you
The poison in her kiss reminds me of dew
Even the devil knows we suffered too long
The torments of Hell and the agony of chains
This highway is empty but for hollow bones
Lining my path, if alone, wherein lies the pain?
If not me, who then will suffer the shadows
Leaching the life from those innocent thralls
Falling or crawling from spires and below
Echoing the screams from damnation halls?
And when the morningstar seems so far away
I wait before the morn for the break of day
But I will never have a taste of death
The depth of Macbeth madness and the shallow breath
Cruel be witches and bitches in trials and tests
From courts of owls to the feasts with the Norns
Olympians lay idle and wait for war horns
I sleep in a sarcophagus
Await the day to rise again
Eons of death flash through my mind
All alone within my bane
The womb of doom split open
For mourning moons, broken
Thus is the tale of my disdain
Remember me with red moons and monoliths
Just so I remember the times with her sylph
I miss the murder
Of crows in summer flight
The distant thunder
Unseen in moonless night
In mid October
Gnashing sodomites
Coked out or sober
Screaming for cenobites
Eyeless with death’s head grin
I’m watching the legions of damned
Begging upon their bleeding knees
Rot in the air
Stinks of despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
I crave the hunger
Of lions for Christians
Nights become sundered
With saboteur mischief
No resurrection
For followers of fraud
My imperfection
Shines before holy God
Curtains of velvety sin
Entertain holy glory holes
Necro-fantasies and Lovecraft
Bells in the air
Toll their despair
When nothing satisfies
Woes of immortality
(c) 2016 Frank Green
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