[Redpyramidhead]

_RED_ stuff

by

Redpyramidhead (Mark S.)


A twilight in hell
magic hour beautiful yet so sour
a taste in this mouth
as one waits as a raven in the crook of Dis' highest tower
with what one is relentlessly told to aspire
as one spreads their wings for a downward loop into the absense of air's current, no power
the only torrent against thine approach in spirals and downward cycles through cyclopean spire
That they are what reach for the forsaken lands' poisened skies
What maketh what Thee dare call blasphemous stalagmites of artistic wonder, endless lifetimes to ponder,
the meticulously woven heart threads, arterial matter, and the last lamenting parts of soul bound
to even the seventh chakra and feeding your hand poisened lies



They come every day now
sometimes in pairs, thirds, and fourths somehow
They search for longevity and what they have been told to be devine
and ask for on tap from hell's most grandiose and livid if not vivid gardens the finest red wine
The audacity...
Oh, how they shall all get as much red stuff as their hearts desire in due time...


_RED_ stuff