The body.
In the cellar underneath, there where rats & vermin hide, scattered among the syncopated bones of royal blood, flooding forgotten the rushing chasms that fill the vanquished heart with ill fate & rending distress.
Bleak sadness in a dark solitude. Inside a well known cave, dissolving the reticent corpse. No spot on the surface of this world globe to go to, for comfort and meek solace. Black walls of desolation covering the extreme antipodes of earthen eyes weeping so selfishly; limited within constraining visions on the horizon of a forgotten dusk.
The soil of the soul is wet with untold tears of distraught despair!
Wherefore can Hope deserve a dwelling, but in a misbegotten grave. All true friends and true brothers shall enter there. Within theirs, inside a holy spell.
It’s in a crypt one buries all hope of here. The Holy Cross above tunneling a passage away onto a sinking ladder to beyond the shinny stars. An Echo all around replies to the solemn song. Inside a sound like a great vaporous ghost in a bulb, where the Dark One, the hidden left over self shall find, united in Un-Death, a single primal and supernal Certitude.
The Soul.
Now it’s time to climb outside. Thru the Tempest at the Crown.
You are its Great Spirit. The body now a rainbow in the living room.
A Sacred very Personal Place of Second Birth.
12 steps from one state to the next. Spiraling from space-time floor to higher floor. These are the Eagles that go beyond & come to go beyond, striking dread in the time kept shroud. Imploding.
Now we can hold Death upon the head as a Bridegroom of Darkness in waiting.
A lantern anatomy of ethereal matter wearing linen, a golden cord at the waist. The Morning Star above the brow. A Prince of Lucifer.
«It’s when my Soul in all its emerald green returns to the ruined house down below! In the gutted clay. Among the bickering. In a realm where innocence fled.
Oh how I wondered. Did the snail I crushed, hate me ? Did Odin finally lose the raving when Huginn didn't go ?
Flame & sulfate surround. Sunk into the residual asphalt of all that's wished for, but did not attain! ...became weary of the darkness that frightens gods !»
Who harassed? What was it in the forgotten brain ? The morphic resonance?
The devils in the waves, thrilling in the air above, or all the naughty kids below? Was it the Jew?
Or was it just the backside of the skin ?
