The Birth of the Herald {B-item:1707651}

Where fire eaters drowned she’d drawn the mass,
An unknown shape that once walked on this plane.
Kissing holes where once the eyes had been,
She held the thing aloft to rise again.
The putrid drops of puss fell on her lips,
She cried in pain for Lucifer to come,
Her work was never over for her here,
Ten thousand years she’d called the holy one.

Regaling lord and master to arise,
She laid the shapeless mass upon the throne,
Her bony naked body knelt to pray,
Her knees bled on the cold and heartless stone.
Tormented and demented she prayed on,
Hour after hour day on day,
Eternal in her quest to bring alive
The memory of the thing she’d seen decay.

The fire and the brimstone burnt her throat,
A throat that garbled words of unknown source,
The pain within the shrine was so intense,
She shrieked the words beneath a demon force.
Between her legs a pool of blood appeared,
That stank of rancid bile and faecal waste,
And as she screamed in passion and distress,
She saw that her weak body had unlaced.

In the blood and gore of her debris,
A squirming shape that took no mortal form,
The head and feet resembled a young goat
With the body a human she had borne.
She cried with glee at last her prayers were heard,
She knew the name of this thing she’d beget,
And held the tiny mass of flesh aloft,
Then screamed the name, repeating Baphomet.

Baphomet the messenger had come,
To pave the way for Hades holy one…

Daniel Lake