the hanged man

"and by darkness

of that night

he came to know himself

as blight

born upside-down

and on a tether…"

the arrows of doom

cometh to our flesh

in a sacrilegious ritualistic will

pray for the oceans bring us no quarter

god's from the foam will rise

summon the weaving haze 

that will clear

through a glory in demise

bringing the chariots 

of a soul's damnation 

the skeleton trees

bare branches 

of what i was supposed to be

all buried ancestry

they danced silently

in the gallows - singing to us  

are the voices of tragic tales

 

in their silent ways 

decaying through all our displaced souls

the magnetic images brought us back 

to the hostage that bites the hand

all life's incision

in a constant derision

obscenity in vitriol

as a response to all things trivial 

which senses the strains, through our astral plains

(we 'll be the furrows now…of an hellish trial)