“HSELF RIEHT ROF”

A new wine flows from the casks 
In the catacombs of our dreams 
So spake the effigy adorning the mask of comedy 

Their wounds salted raw
Like the remnants of their salted earth 
Washed clean by a cleansing rain 
From lightning strikes with scorn
Hung, drawn, quartered 
Oh old Diabolic necromancies 

...but this armor was tainted by indecisions 
Ghosts of my haunting past 
Returning to collect the usury  

“Feeling like the beautiful devolved into the pitiful, as I look upon the moon and stars. Is this disillusionment? My second guesses compound with the wounded picture in front of me. Salting the scars with your venom as a memento of a rotten life. Dawn has painted a miasmic green, and the glade fell into a dreamy sleep...the indigo-hued cock croons, not realizing it’s quarter past noon.” 

It takes two to tango with tangerines
And my fresh memories hang on clothespins 

Retired to the countryside I contemplate:
In a way I am unrepentant 
In another, engulfed in remorse 

Punk is putrefied, scabbed is its demise 

A love I could never forget, 
Determined to keep in a locket 
Close to my blackened heart 
(Otherwise) Disillusioned and torn apart 

Reflections...reflections... 
Recollections...recollections...

Heavy downpour over me.
Beginning to see a Pyrrhic victory. 
I hunger for what lies beyond 
For a gourmand for the earthly tapestry. 

Aspirations...contemplations... 
Elucidations...realizations...

Man’s obliteration...ceased in the fire
(Ceasefire...)
Before...A new paragon. The mind forever short of satiation.