Agony Arcanum

[circusflames]

Disfigured spirits kiss a cross while they raise up decaying citadels,

A guilty sinner stands by his own art with a needle stuck in his polluted artery.

Magic and revolution tricks the moon into bleeding cosmic tentacles,

Your stiff bones remain locked in a never ending embrace with god.

The nebula's particles darkens the tide into an unbreakable shadow,

A population drinking pure aphrodisiac from the ruins of despair.

Murky water dribbling from your mouth collecting in a shallow puddle,

A somber song illuminating the ranks of your funeral.

Maneuvering destiny into the aspects that govern life without remorse,

With these twin gauntlets the noble ones acknowledge my mystic consciousness.

Their tempered hands raise the void which eat away at my infected host,

Taking everything until the threads dissolve in my grief.

A universe made up of a holy hierarchy feasts on the remains of your incarnation,

Stoic as always I refuse to raise my battered body beyond the complex crevices.

Wearing a fragile shell with the outside layers covered in the markings of war,

The strain which feeds me breaks through the cracked fabric of reality.

Carving away at muscle until the perfect shade of white opens its eyes at me,

Give birth to a relic which lives until ashes are thrown over the sea.

Becoming worm food for the elder entities which form this cursed globe,

With a goblet of burning clay the serpent rises from his grave.

Edited September 22, 2012 by Emotional Outlet