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deepundergroundpoetry.com

Blood Sorceress

She reaches between her legs and pulls flakes of steel and the obsessions of human ectoplasm
My life to do her work, the last words to ram into my mind
She reaches into the thick blankets of flesh between her legs and pulls the spastic mountain peaks of Inferno
And the armies that squeal under the pressure of her organ grip
The last words I sing to thee are
DEATH, DEATH, DEATH
Honored by the thorny crowns of her excretions
Strung up by the blackened and barbed
Plates of my armor
The last words I mutter as burning rain invades my flesh,
March, March, March
She reaches out and touches my hand across the tea table, across the sands of time
And she asks me if I am alright
Sweating and beaten with withdrawal
I chatter
The room turns gray and malignant
Little old women, burning corpses now of the Rapture
Beautiful whores on fire
My memory of her is bubbly and corroded
And I donít fucking care.
Brando
Written by Brando (Brandon Hursell)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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