Gutteral yet starlit, standing on the shoulders of gyrators
My mind's chateau shattered, conscience mastered by masturbators
Decadence a deadend, dread indelible upon my might
Darkness a duck in water, wading into wandering light
Faithful to my fate's fatwa, fettered by its stonely setting
In case of Satan's ending endorsement, I lay indebted
To stately statements, that dance in darkness and echo unheard
Berated by waiting wastelands, wanton of another world
I cry but tears drown out desire, siring yet more frayed days
My presence a prescient telling of God's green, grimey daze
Stark, I stalk all that stall before the Fall, so safe in their hate
Armored to illusion, they stare starving, not striving to sate
No comments:
Post a Comment