I have heard your plea in the coaxing of leaves,
the empty appeal contorted by intent.
There is malignancy, frequencies distinct.
Beneath the majesty a potent tragedy
Subtle fractures, imperfections.
Coursing hemoglobin,
heart pummels out a rhythm
so misaligned, so obstinate,
decisions unwilling to give.
On the word of Lucifer:
There is urgency, the numbing certainty
of their conviction, pains me to hear.
The choice is evident, the reigns erode,
cannot hold alone!
Strings that held limbs run through,
I have struggled to hold on to,
I was absent and in place now a wound.
I am cursed with a sight beyond my eyes,
consequences and pit falls lie ahead,
generations will grasp this flames
warm lick and unenviable task.
I was absent and in place now a wound,
you are the whole that fills us
I eat of this fruit you offer to me!
Its taste is so pungent and so bitter sweet,
its innate sourness cures this sepsis.
A wealth so palatable despite its flaws.
Forked tongues so baleful
contort and lash with wretchedness.
From gaping jaws so unclean,
cannot hope to hide their frown!
The halls of Elysium ridden with consciousness,
the acid of their bile licking back teeth.
Impudent menagerie, swarms immutable,
the mother, her brood, unavoidable constant.
To conquer this opponent my cause has a format,
chastise and belittle through heredity.
Your facade the godhead of all that is impure -
tortured alone in your Stygian hole!
For what I claim I bestow, I ordain, and I own!
It is within my image that all will writhe!
The pitiful mass my constituency
and your pit will be feared along with its liege!
How can it be oh beauteous lord!
The cornucopia for which you bled,
the taught cloth with which you cut
your tools are blind and blunt!
The petty whims of a charlatan,
the misogyny of a feeble man,
many will suffer the fools
who take up your filthy mantle!
he mocking sage casts aspersions,
so quickly finds his judgement lies
with those who catch his sleight of hand,
the parlor tricks beyond the curtain
Yield!
I cannot, i will not, I will not yield!
Yield!
How easy you throw stones
lesser son, dimming light,
intentions of a coup de tat!
Cloaked in benevolence,
the last word sits upon my lips,
with wings barbed I swallow!
Corridors of black thresh and snake,
I am tar, i am viscid.
I will riddle all with scorn!
I will make them fear!
Anatomy now divisive,
a form to lay the blame.
The offer of bliss now withdrawn,
falling from my grace.
Her kin shall hate her for this dissent,
her body wracked with shame.
Shame will be a tool to implement
the scouring of her will.
Nature now impure,
forever scrubbing clean
that which cannot be.
The bearer now obscene.

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