Fates, Watchers, and Panther Moon

 
The watchers wait in glades – inferno black –  
As clockwise clouds seek blind the panther moon.
Knights libertine, as leather binds their backs,  
Slack gravity destroys in sterling spoons.  
In scents of tea and lemongrass suspend,  
The Fate androgynous that steals my blood,  
And seeks, in manly chemicals resend,  
Baptism in my cock before Its flood.  
The howls once torn from tattered hearts escape,  
The dreams of madmen’s neon painted lines,  
The rot of lovers’ rusted chains agape,  
In pools that window’s angled bars define.  
From their assigned psychosis, inks are bled.  
From poet’s sealed tomb, come ruin, spread.