Endless Beginnings

The chaotic roots

Corrode life’s boots.

At eerie roads enroots

Bound whither by the witch?

To the destination after,         

Whether is of soul or matter.

For in its decayed origins

Of shape shifting sins

Unfolds beyond everlasting veil of chains

Nymphs, muses and fleshy heroines –

The quill’s tormentors and assassins!

Right after a resurrection rite begins…

In geometrical shades

Lacerated are the fades;

Anew

And slew…

Over and again…

Time starts in blood to drain

The spirit’s relentless rain.

Eternal is the void in immortal vain.

All changes, nothing degrades,

One moves as stiffened jades

Develops days, epochs or decades.

Setting out while everything sets in,

Appearing to eclipse the dawn,

The twilight finds a new mastermind

Initiating the employment of fiendish beasts

He could find. The plan is set in motion

But just then, without a notion,

An apocalypse carries on the best of things,

Exposing the emerald web of… endless beginnings!

Lost highway

Asphalt…

Liquefied steps

Radiate silken silhouettes of memories

Across shady fathom horizons.

Sun sets in alloy of gold and rust.

Forward is laced the infinite,

Beyond is the sinful baptism.

The shrouded apparition walks…

Unearthly, vaporous…

Voracious metal animals

Stiffened in opiated ruins

Stand beside him.

Livid winds

Open mirage of deserted sands…

Souls tear

Thru mesmerized fleshes…

Hear you the ration and seek

Impish goddesses who

Gorgeously open thy ribs,

Healing thy heart

When immersing veins with toxic kisses?

Away is the whisper, the ravishing is near,

Yet yesterday was entombed in tomorrow.

In my liquefied steps,

Upon the lost highway,

Her tender decadence strips.

Under liquefied steps

My emerald witch sleeps.

By roses and lilies her innocence I slay,

When my liquefied steps

Reach the end of the lost highway.

The tainted quill is loose

The legend of Chaos, the story of old,

The one whisper forbidden and foretold:

The rotten soil is sullen with skulls of broken promises.

Suns abjure in eclipse their effulgence.

The moon conjures the tenebrous goddess

And stars fulfill a sinful baptism.

The foundation of the cathedral shivers in resurrection.

Bells roar a rusted apocalyptic lament…

She is here… the goddess… Akasha!

She has heard the plea of the new world…

Mortals are in disbelief, ecstatic thru grief,

And the immortals roam the land once more.

The dungeon is decomposed in enticing ruins

And shackled she finds there the tainted quill.

“Unfold the shrouds of chaste afterlife,

Carve into the enchanted nails,

Flood with viscous rust the gory shackles of silence!

Entomb him venal into the thirteen Elysium Field

And conceal him deep in the coffin of the abyss!

His venomous ink and mutated shape

Are the ambrosia and nectar of our decayed souls!”

Her words are law and winds carry them out

Thru dragon’s blaze and the fallen angel’s shout,

Otherworldly wraiths obey the bidding outright.

The chains fall heavy with shrieking utterance

Cleaving the skies of their innocent skins,

Disemboweling the clay shapes that come alive,

The exalted dust births ravens, who tell gypsy stories,

And glyphs and runes embellish in shadows that thrive.

Shackles become contaminated with a haunting mist

And crumble into fiendish apparitions,

While the enchanted nails are engraved in emerald spells

Of spine-chilling disenchantment…

A tombstone is ravaged upon the parchment’s epitaph

And denuded nymphs enact

Fleshly sacrifices,

Burlesque waltzes…

Afraid aliens absorb antimony.

Cadaveric chimeras charm crazy clouds.

Demons drill damnation.

Eerie elf engineers environments.

Witches wander wanton weaving wastelands.

Bizarre blood boils –

The tainted quill is loose upon eternal eons!

The legend of Chaos, the story of old,

The one whisper… forbidden and foretold!

Infinite conviction

It is nine wing beats past ten bleeding moons.

The Einsteinium nite begins in vapors of nuclear glow

And the chaotic inn opens its blazing gates.

A coin for a body, a dark tune for somebody,

A conic idea pierces everybody… why the hell I have no body?!

They pour inside ton by ton, where no thought

Was able to fit or bear the invented apocalypse;

The alluring net catches them all and ties new bonds

Entrapped beneath darkened laces of emerald witches…

Potion! An eerie viscous mix of nit eggs, nife alloy,

Ions of Tulipa Callaina, essence of succubus,

Cyclops eye, hydra liver, ionic onions,

Werewolf fur and dysprosium oils –

Not for the feint hearted mortals!

A fine savor flows like ghosts

And reveals which primal pagan the unholy mass hosts.

Its veil enshrouding all in peace,

The ravishing icon from above casts a bless

And lays bare the name: Akasha The Goddess.

A tonic civic notion emerges burlesque and  thin

The beasts infuse spirits with tick-tock nicotine.

But unto the ghastly ball noon has not brought all

Tin souls are left outside, to starve in despair,

No sin to touch them, then to vanish into thin air.

Oblivion raised this haunting wall.

Deep in the dungeons of nothingness’ blackish wombs,

Behind the ununseptium bars of venal innocent haze,

The quill is held in rusty chains by fiendish muses…

On raven’s chaste gypsy wings is flayed into submission

To perform the conviction

Of the fuscous nymphs decayed misty rapture.

A tormented convict of carved depraved fleshes

Resurrects from the eclipse within;

The flavor of cryptic miasma depicted enfolds,

Dawns are sliced, suns deboned of light,

The unearthly mesmerizes and crowns a gory apparition,

The rotten hand that was behind the sight –

The convict of infinite conviction!