Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Seven Times Ten Equals Potion Number Ninety One
Through heaven and hell
I trudged to find you gnawing
On limbs in limbo, the
Graying area between our worlds.
Belladonna dancing on your lips,
I threw you back and let
You escape, cutting the umbilical
Cord that served as the only
Link between you and I.
Paranoiding your ghost into
Serious traumas, I see with
My own demons eye that your
Black moon shines full yet again.
War pigs moan, stumbling upon
Your enigmatic corpse, split open
And spilling stench and frailty.
Seven times ten, you are a saint,
A stormbringer reveling in your
Black dazed and confused decorum.
There is no god as devious as you.
To find you beckoning angels to
Give up their wings was enough
Of a maelstrom to incite rage
Within me, cremating the little
Drops of hope left alive in me.
The end, but I keep you on
Life support, keeping that locomotive breath
Inside your ghoul body so that
This fire woman can throw you
In a mirthless chasm, cue hymn 43.
Your voodoo child turned into my
Radioactive vortex sucking all life
As thought it held malignant meaning.
Your manners are calm, I hate that in you.
12-8-09
I trudged to find you gnawing
On limbs in limbo, the
Graying area between our worlds.
Belladonna dancing on your lips,
I threw you back and let
You escape, cutting the umbilical
Cord that served as the only
Link between you and I.
Paranoiding your ghost into
Serious traumas, I see with
My own demons eye that your
Black moon shines full yet again.
War pigs moan, stumbling upon
Your enigmatic corpse, split open
And spilling stench and frailty.
Seven times ten, you are a saint,
A stormbringer reveling in your
Black dazed and confused decorum.
There is no god as devious as you.
To find you beckoning angels to
Give up their wings was enough
Of a maelstrom to incite rage
Within me, cremating the little
Drops of hope left alive in me.
The end, but I keep you on
Life support, keeping that locomotive breath
Inside your ghoul body so that
This fire woman can throw you
In a mirthless chasm, cue hymn 43.
Your voodoo child turned into my
Radioactive vortex sucking all life
As thought it held malignant meaning.
Your manners are calm, I hate that in you.
12-8-09
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Seven Times Ten Equals Potion Number Ninety One
Seven Times Ten Equals Potion Number Ninety One
