Serpentium
Devilish serpent
of Nefarious
design
Spit your venom
into the eyes of
the saints
Mercurial messiah
of misshapen
maladies
Rest your halo
on gold-tipped
wings
Mold the iron until
its strong enough to
break my will
When the curfew
ends, there will
be a story to tell.
Seeking Solace
Obsidian meadows
permeate
the sunken
psyche
As foragers of
silk seek solace
in the virtue of their
false idols
Scavengers prowl
the marrowless
bones
of our planet
In search of pontificated
piousness within the realm
of jeweled nights and
solar-scorched days
What they don't know,
is that what they seek
resides inside their own
blood-shaven bodies
Thy Kingdom Come
Black Lotus eyes foresee
gold-tinted Abalone shells
Cased within
velvet-lined caskets.
Ebony correlations
slink to and fro
On a bronze ship
headed for the hazy horizon.
Some call it Valhalla while
others ignore it altogether.
I prefer to set my sails
of Byzantine glory and
bask in the timelessness
that this life has to offer
Midnight Stroll
Graveyard bones
Juxtaposed
against a rotting
termite-infested two by four
The inhabitants
of Mausoleums
remain untouched
and withered
A lone stranger
walks the crypts
at midnight. hoping
to find solace in the dead
Reading black-drop
poetry at the graves in between
whistling Greensleeves
to the Crimson harvest moon
The Stranger kneels by
an open grave and imagines
themselves trapped for all eternity
under Oak and brass
What the stranger doesn't
know is that when you
look at death, death
stares back.
Bullets and Fire
Take the bullet
and swallow it
whole
Iron embedded
deeply into the sarcophagus
Of the blood
Pressure compounding
Dynamite of the heart
Racing, tracing
the outsides of a blackened
barrel with a sharpie
Dive into the deep
with only a match
The pool is full of gasoline
and there is no bottom
to it.
