deepundergroundpoetry.com

O' LONG THE NACHT MIASMA, SOMATIC

Wrought the patterns upon the breast of earth
That may pollinate wings through perdition
Of the miasma that I�d snuffed this day
Night coils
Through visions of grandeur, slipped into the aether
Beloved metempsychosis
I long for this

Plagued rains fall quick on my heart
The worship of the dead from start
Their words are my poison, and their dagger is in my hands
I desire and am castrated by departure

Slime of the mire, gripping heels
Is this where my devotion has brought me?
Black roses lie on the stark white ground
Showing me the sky and my own reflection
In this odious rain, pouring
My soul is struck from zenith to the pits of my despair
And she stood, laughing, in the moments I could breathe

Rivers converge unto me, I know their shape
All pain that I have birthed in those I spake
Like fibers strung taut by the pressure of life
In death, could they be edified?

We boundless few that scrape at temple doors
In whispers, turn leprous at the touch of love
Emotions impregnate me, for mercy wreathed
Chains of lament tighten upon my throat
And I am lost to the hatred that yesterday wrote
What could even be gained from this?
I am the necromantic and the profane
Suffer�d hiraeth of Eden�s gates this time
Weary from the embrace of those I trust
As frost cloaks the wings of carrier pigeons
And fire consumes their carrions

I am truly alone in their embrace