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by Xahir Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Drama · #1006194
could be termed gothic, is not but a stream of thoughts unspoiled
The bias that beholds thy Christ
Obligation recitation shall be just
Reeling rites blooming torments
Finest relic, booty and hunger
Guided hallow wizardry
Let us greet The Vermin
Rile shall his adversaries
Plunder he shall spare
To his jolly grace
A bride to sorcery
The lusty witches
Shiny dark latex
Magical pews

Fellowship fading with its mystical crying
Lord shall detail the guising heads
Tears shall hush thy disciples
Leave now upon mocking divide
Ravine waters shall gulp encrypted recitals
Plaster his smoke dome
Pluck his knuckles
Impale the bitch where eager slave
Perpetuate dreams
Deliver rabid serene
Bury all with bones but his cage
To the light I must rave
In its bright
Wakening to wider grasp
Tightening too much for my carpel to meet
The voice and blain
Smiting all that’s earful
Fonder just in blasphemy
Equipped for the rain
Walks that drained
On a punctual road

He lites up what’s left of caves
Drags onto zestfully amazed
Laughing aloud in frantic molds
Leading the craze
Yearning to blaze
The lights and their aura
Keeping his dirt inverted
Heaping like a dandy gag
Gushing lightly through his past
Failing to breathe in sizable blasts
Dropping onto softer hands of draped.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1006194-Bias