Pawn Of A Voluptuous Wickedness

[TheClosestPickle]

WARNING: This poem is a very raw and blunt piece of work. It may not be comfortable for some readers to explore, and it evokes very disturbing imagery. That being said, viewer discretion is heavily advised, and the faint of heart probably shouldn't read this. You have been WARNED.

 

 

 

 

Wounder, wandering upon esssse as a folktale devoid of vision or dream

Bitter, thou, the beast whom warbling reality masticateth upon a denounced plain

Frosted into a sepulcher of madness and lingering shadows of an oblique world of horrid memories

Yea, I hath known these, for the Thou art I, and art I this Thou, where no one wanders though all shall haunt

But alas, beat thine the breast, mine breast, for the gothique and obfuscated monster in the night was once a child

 

A fox of joy and gaiety marked by carefree leaves and honeyed waters, I bore no vision of the disturbed realms

A smile ne'er to effervesce tainted tears or be kissed by the unholy phantasm of the wrought iron moon

Nothing but an absconded whisper believeth worth of light amidst the sorrow that would unfold to me, the waif

Snare deployed ne'er I beheld, until the moment within the breath of its horror devouring mine very flesh

Wrapped in agony and dressed in vomit, devolveth I into prey beneath the Hunter, I defiled into the foul Thou

 

When tossed aside in mire upon the roaches, mine lacriment saw abhorrent release, as sinew rot to blackthorn

There was no angel kissing this Thou, nor a call to mine soiled cries, darkness and vile sputum vanquishing I

Restless dreams formed, nightmare overflowing with seizure, as the evil wyrm doth crush and malform mine penis

Softness no longer found, with iron tongue of barbs and teeth ravaging the unloved appendage to nigh a thought

Flailing in the sirens' restless screams hath Thou now formed, as the Torturer flayed the misery open in quarters

 

Claws grotesque and bleeding, I, yes Thou the I, lay in merciless sands, dressed like a maiden as Thou laughed to I

Disheveled terror being unfolds, screaming in lordosis prowl, to slither as slug on ground, forgotten and pulverized

One wolf would gouge mine right eye, another shalt urinate poison upon I, the Thou now soon to full receive

Coagulated mass of tar, to drink naught but saltpetre, wracked still upon abyss, subject to wrought iron sanguine song

Ere now a dirge resoundeth, and burned into reality would be the final blueprint the Demonic sees Thou now be

 

Thou art all Thou sanctify, living in sanctuary beheld in malevolent scenes, where gnarled souls drowneth in ecstasy

Devil of the murder den, stained in ague where this putrescent I saw back broken to sip the font of wan expiring

Engorged tails would kill mine mind in rare time it be, ashen and warped webs to befall I by Thou panic creed

Destruction bow, Ruination stern, all without apology, as bells noting suffering sing macabre rape elegies in glee

Strike, Thou king, down assumed heretic queen, I the cold b&@*$ you point fro Thine gun, shattering this now void husk

 

Ethereal in the world of sodomy, nothing salved of vapid rays, restless within a tempest doth spin, bereaving me

Where I stride hope respires perished Golgotha scene, trapped both alive and death within impossible light

Even Thee, what was I now stands enemy, Thou cannot break through the power of the Grave's e'erlasting scream

And what would Thou hope I could find, nihility or lullaby? Perhaps I have departed to a place Thou cannot reside

Thou seeped I in dung, had white water drunk, but now in the still of midnight the dawn of this terror shall finally come