deepundergroundpoetry.com

WENDIGO : D�MONIA DICERE AURATIS VERBIS

Melancholy was my summit
Still as the waterfall portrait
Or funeral crowds so dimly lit
To this my legs would now commit

And light fell from the drapery of stars
Lunar spear, pierced
Straight through my translucence
Gifting eyes to the ever-lost

Sempiternal swarth of time
Sculpting mirrors from the rime
Corrupted I, the flowers die
I wither with them in the sky

That heart I do avail
Mine to empower
With despair as the nail
My flesh that scours

So I wait
Beneath quiescent desire
Sutured heart in hand
Weave by weave, unthreaded
Words would not digest
Deafened veracity
And you were blind
A closed gallery

I wane with the fading sight
Until I am one with the night
Evenfall ubiquitous
Those faces that I wouldn�t miss

Fragments of the mirror align
I gaze into a thousand selves
Merging into one devil
A semblance I will bevel

A thousand selves
They became others
Into madness, delved
And death my lover

I�ll devour them all

And like a masterpiece incised
A dark pool grows in size
Covering the opacity
With refractive properties
Rubescent antiquity
Like water became wine

Intoxicating red wine

Of demons speaking words of gold
The darkness ever takes its hold