This Poem

This Poem

This Poem Bleeds In The Night

Like A Sanguarian On A Weekend Binge

Dripping And Drooling From The Jaws

Like A Transylvanian Jackal ;



This Poem

This Poem Is A Dirge With A Hearse

Carrying It's Corpse Of Words Given To Life

Before Death's Dream Claimed It's Own

And The Dark Circus Marched The Streets Of Orleans ;



This Poem

This Poem Is The Scent Of Night Jasmine ,

And Black Opium Mixed With The Musk

Left Behind After Sex , That Passion Pilfered

From Lovers Unknown Who Shared A Motel Bed ;



This Poem

This Poem Is The Distillation Of The Utter Pain

None Dare Speak Of When They Walk The Valley

Of Lost Souls , And Shadows And Tortured Memories

Taint The Air Of The Dusk With Gloom Unenamored ;



This Poem

This Poem Is The Humdrum And Hubbub Of Society

And The Ancient Sanctity Of That Which Preceded It

It Is A Whisper Raising The Hairs On Flesh Virginal

In It's Journey Across Experience's Seas , Like A Wind

And A Song Yet Not Written , Less In Stone ;



This Poem

This Poem Is A Cry Across An Abyss Not Yet Found ,

And Far From Yet Revealed To The Elemental Mundane

An Echo Within An Echo Back To The Primal Word Of The

Poet Of This Universe , This Literary God Head Meta Magician ,

This Verbose Madman Chanting Some Supposed Manifest Destiny

This Schizophrenic Bipolar God , A Synesthesiac On Meds Not Taken

Who Had A Vision And Followed It , This Power Of The Word ;


This Poem

This Poem Is Nothing At All And Yet Everything In Between

This Poem Is My Madness Which Comes Fashionably Late

Dressed To The Nines In The Elegant Polarity Of Black And White

Shadows And Ghosts At The Dinner Party At The End Of The World