A Dream Without Waking

A Dream Without Waking.

Beneath my eyes, the blackthorns bleed.
The sewed red children twist and scream.
Metal flowers corrode pornographic gestures.
Revelation of God; a body swathed in soiled sheets. 
Hideous thoughts and severed crimes.

Death knows me.
D is for lots of things.

Today I saw oblivion.
Tomorrow I will be dead.

A deep horror contained by ritual.
Intestinal puppetry and interwoven viscera.
The blackstrap repose of lacerated virgin tissue.
A passkey to the underworld.

Imagination and pain are analogous states of diablerie.
The murderous construction of an abstract identity.
Pleasure of high uncrowning.
Bare necks of the future beheaded.
Old world burns in an oven of fools.

A sleep as sharp as death.
A crooked house of crayons and chicken legs.
Steel lyres and splendid shoulder blades;
and darkness thus grows darker.

Be sure not to be in any scene in which you
dare not die.

Macabre Magpie