Parables Of Dementia

She has Lied

And thus in her Sin

As whimpered for her Blood to be drawn

He has Cried

And thus in hid Din

Has wished for his lust to be gone

In their Saturnine Folly

They both have assumed

That the rust of the Wrought Iron Dementia is for them

And them alone

Ah, they sing Elegies for mourning

But quickly turn to Joyous Requiems again

For how else is one to exalt

When one wishes to place them selves above all fault

To Whisper your self soft lullabies

To Drown out your own Cries

And Pray for self-demise

Oh, to believe the lies

Lay and Pray? Pray For What?

Pray you never See of Marrow

Pray for Martyr steps to follow

This the desire is it Not?

For this Coil to be a grand Illusion

A Bleak Phantasmagoria

From which one seeks to be tossed

Fool…One should not trust the bitter wailing of Sirens

Phalluses and             Mysticism Haunt all in their depths

While Love Lays Raped and Bleeding on cold cracked Cellar steps

Kane walked here once…

In lustless days of Old

And how Frightening it is here today

To still find the Footprints

With nearly a Marr

How wonderful to know some things Never change

To sleep where Lovers Rot

And taste of what Forgot

Aeons past of what I sought

And in sinks Iniquitous thought

For whom placed those here?

Blank stone Gods cast Vomits stares towards Me

But I cannot recall just what they must not See

Tuck me into the catacombs for safekeeping

For I wish to be rid of this Specters Creeping

This my desire

O, but just Once I would have liked to run my Tongue across the Crypt

And Imagine the Tart flavor I can only Pray Mirrored her Lips

I can only hope these thick walls cannot Crumble

For many a tragedy has forced bleak Moldering

Nothing here shall be, but the Resounding of my own Sickening Heart beating

To Quake from Dank Chamber Bowls

What Exquisite music it makes

Wafting on the Stale air in the Notes it takes

How long until it Breaks?

Upon the Razors of a Parable

Three wanderers came Dreaming at my feet one night

The first a masque of putrid light

The next a cut of Macabre delight

The last a more ungainly Blight

I gouged my eyes to quell the sight

But still in my mind stabbed deep more Fright

I cut my ears from off my head

But still seeped in all that they said

I Slit my throat to still my Breath

But still my death they would not let

The wanderers then took me where

They told me of my weight to bear

For this a masque I carved myself

Threw all the Joyous pain they felt…

I wished this chamber would hold Me

Caress, Bleed and Break Me

And to the Letter

Pleased my Fetters

As thoroughly as none could Better

But still the Heart beats….

And Echoes obscure words

Someone Please Quell the Verse!