marți, 13 ianuarie 2015

On the road to chaotic desires



The lead wind hisses to the alluring sky, spreading his wings to entomb the sun within the clouds. The raw deep green trees are shadow’s candles that grieve the molecule of angels. They vanish in the distance as the epitaph of the turquoise blazing dawn melts them.
The road to my destination was built on flesh of the immortals, covered in grey asphalt scales made of the ancestor’s ash. I step on it carefully, each step a vivid relief of dreams; I do not to want to cleave the surface with obscurity’s dark tainted boots. Behind me, left to resurrect in oblivion’s womb is the ring of fallen angels with the three fiery tongues of mystic doom attached.
The first tongue speaks of the profane rose oracle’s fossil bleeding underneath the hunger of the feral tulip. Its veins are scorched in the fires of the barren mists of tormented breasts. The feverish sands of both its three hearts are rooting in a prophetic jar and take a new twisting cadaveric shape, crawling cuffed by the tulip’s petal hands and hanging frozen by the corrosive ambrosia f her placenta.
The second tongue brought a sarcophagus’s skeleton breath bitten by the kiss of a blue November graveyard rain. A wrecked moon spreads its light fetuses echoing into a mourning howl amidst pillars of mirroring skulls. A ghost’s skin is caressed by the forgotten god while eating the mourning tears of the virgin nun.
The third and final tongue is a canvas dyed in black torments that map the blank exposed colossus river. The thorn’s anarchy injures the chaste hell with worms of cathedrals. Crooked pits stain the ancient baby souls in windows of blue heads, laid on winter’s pillow. The dead bowels haunt the blind nurse with sperm of ravenous pits boiling in the sea of parental fiends.
I walk on a road built on flesh of the immortals, covered in grey asphalt scales made of the ancestor’s ash. I step on it carefully, each step a vivid relief of dreams; I do not to want to cleave the surface with obscurity’s dark tainted boots. I walk anxiously, leaving the transient time behind, and I find myself in front of a future of chaotic desires.

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