The Haunting

How’t that waned darkness haunts me…
This’t, the bane of light, and essence of storm…
Therefore, the creeping serpent rests not…,
Til’fore, his season of enticement is fulfilled…
Rekindled, the separation eternal, and undefiled…

     To leave it all behind, the things you know, the people you love…it’s all so profoundly sad, how indescribably tragic…in the dismal element of nigh.
     That olden antiquity, the golden goat – the welkin lamb, this far from the precipice of eternity, the prophecies ceaseless, the promise unfulfilling…
     Hare, then – the gates are opened, and the monoliths awakened, wheres’t the flesh meets the grounded soils, and the spirit-world becomes the shadow-world…
     This, uttered to the soul, and the darkening dismay – there is no sorrow greater than this – reprobated solemnity.
     How, forced to longingly await – assured doom and damnation, under crescents of rippling sunshine, atop the forbadem, still to the forewarned resplendence…
     Admittedly, thenceforth, the absolute wallowing, of entropic dissidences, and mournful shores, so darkless…, so…endless;
     Behold, the erected cross of cavalry, and beholden, the laden serpentine of negation, unhallowed – unto suffering, unbarred…
     I tell thee, there is no hell like this, the inescapable terror, and the eternalising horror of the mind – of our fleshed cage, so bounding…, subject to the unknowably higher forces of twilight, where-then boundless, the spiritual quintessence of our felling souls, where agony is unrivalled, and harrowing ordeal, surreal…
     Godlessness, bleakness, this far wayward, of oblivion, and contritely irreversible consequence – to the forbearer of the fallen torch, of depthless dimming, and lightless thundering, thence-where, is the fare told, of abhorred animosity, and subliminal universality? 
     As foretold, hence the leering cold, of fires, unquenchable, and torments, undeniable – for the fallen countenances, but for the graceless abominations of permanence…
     Yet, to this – no matter the western, nor the eastern, the north is rising, and the south, is dying, and so then – go forth, children of wicked remission, wreak forth, pandemonium, chaos, and bring forth rivalrous testimony…for dedicative exaltation to our fathers’ kingdom, enshrined, where-thence, enthroned, the unconquered, is but beset, awaiting, glorious veneration, and grotesque reformation – for the sake’ few, of the chosen, the predestined, and the devoted…
     Inherit, then, this fallen world – raise your golden cup to this – the ripened blooding, drink there forth, from the chalice of heresy…under the defamed ruling, wherest’ unruly, these bleeding skies, with casted dies – for tomorrow, and beyond, the chastening rebellion, of preeminent superiority…hereto then, exalt, and adoringly exhort – the arisen, the second defeat, and the third coming…
     Hear, yea…listen, for the tolling trumpet of our wistful foreboding, where doom is afformed, and fear, unbevelled.  Raise not your heads, stray not your callous countenances, gaze not into the brightest star, felling here, upon, and before us – bore’d witness to this, the trinity’s, absented eminence.  Beheld, the lightning so quickly flashed, and the radiant brilliance, of light shone – and to us, denied…
     Where written, even in the hearts of men, befallen to beasts, creeps, and unrepentant anarchy, where then…our fate is sealed, and concluded – with the finality of inevitability; understand, this quickly approaching place – this lightless space, gehenna – hell and sheol, named thrice, amongst, and before’st the accrowned…, this is hopelessness, this is piteous contemplation, where yearning, and remembrance die not, where torments are unending, and the sorrow, ever-folding, becoming more real, forevermore, revealing furthered suffering, infinitely placeless, having but formless essence, yet acquitted one virtue – that of god and his tragic enmity, foretold, hence-this…     

     Forewarned, the place of bottomless sorrows, and ov bleeding marshes, mudded rivers, and lacking convergence, to absolute disdain, for mankind, and his bornless creator, Adonai, IHYH, and Judea, the Christos;, thous’t the trinity, entwined…unsolvable, unfathomable, irreconcilable, and berating in remand, foreverly bereaved, furthermore, deceived – by the first tragedy, evermore iniquitous, ruinously tattered, retelling…, with seditions untold, and indivisible darkness, undeterminably undiscernible, by the dualist facet of godless deviltry, and darkless might – gloriously redound, haplessly abound, the lightless precipices, of expansion, endless. 
     Then, we entreatingly ask of thee, our lorded silence, our fatherless master, beseech us with wisdom, unknown – knowledge untold, and truths, foreknown…bless-this, endarken our spirits, strengthen our willed resolves, and humble our inhibiting flaws…
     Legions, free us – fleshless monoliths, aberrations, countless…free our spirits from the confinement of encaged and massless flesh, so ridden with futility – bare us, then – unforsaken splendour, estrange us – from the derangement of loveless dispute, and joyless respite, how then…disavowed, within this moment of doubt.
     Therein, hereto, and wherefrom, the aweing embrace, and immutable grace, of denial, rejection and dejection…wearingly tolling in dreadsome horror, whirred real…in somnolence, in solemnity, reaffirming the directionless void, of negation so emptying…oh, darkness – crown me, your encirclement of thorns, hear me – for I am but a lowly servant, to the voiding emptiness of reprobated beckoning…in quietude, under felling thunderstorm…broken, defeated and desolated, succumbed to the lowest point, damned unto eternity, withless reprisal…oh, my beautiful, and accompanying friend, open the door, for this lost soul – free my spirit from the blight of life, adrift this, my mightily contortion, so distortedly broken, though, unwavering – this, final graven place, of restless and ceaseless wallowing, under rotting oaks, and dampening leaves, forgotten to them all – unendingly bereaved…
     How I was slew, likened to your grandest falling, your most eminent insurrection, failed…slaine, in dark, for this’t, the thistle, and the thorn, unbreakable, but adjourned to the stigma, and the breathless sentiment, of Christ, in essence – torn, and battled, exhausted and trialled, bear me one final betraying kiss – for this, the beginning, and ending, conjoined – to irr-remembrance, and blissless, how fenceless…summed quintessence; reborn, then – of both dualistic tenses…of light, and darkness, your dedicated son, with daybreak, and nightmarish wake – knighted, for your sake…unsafe, confound to this wagering stake – convinced of that one final appeal – never knowing, that much was unreal, thenceforth thwarted…into formless and depthless darkness, void of light, blindingly dark…with weighted darkness, making man breathless, so then – beware, always be sober, and take care…for the enemy is alert, so be-weary, and where – watching…unknowably, until the day of wrath come. 

 

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Mortuary Drapes… The Ampacity Of Animosity

There is a sombre atmosphere, within that olden funeral home,
Bleakly, how reputedly melancholic, the harrowed testament.
Darkly, how the lights are so dimmed, whence familial lament is present,
Yet, there exists a peace to be surmised, in knowing death, as one knew life.
As the pain has ceased, and is no more present, the greater the release…unwept,
Whence that dreaded day come, what are we, if not humanity’s best, undone?
    The
Thence, this fervent prayer, so solemn, that evening’s heralded mare,
Contest this, the absolutist, the amassed, for the faltered half has all but passed.
Beyond this, the depthless precipice, of despairing existence, seemingly endless…,
The abyss exudes deep within, festering as a hurtful secret, amidst the core of sin.
Lessened then, beheld, the shapelessness of despair, and the weightlessness of time,
If not unhallowed, what are we then, to the quintessence of antiquity and time?
    Great
The sorrowfully stark, found awash iniquitous shores, hereabout,
Beholdest, then, the ripening pear, the souring apple, and the rotting heart.
Amid sour revelry, affronted, upon the envisaged cornerstone of aboriginality,
Where’d accursed, are ashamed, in the bane of glaringly covetous doubt.
Here then, forevermore, amongst the deep, thou bore witness to proud disbelief,
Firs’ unfelling, irreparably recant, contortedly testimonial, to silenced remand.
     White
Fro, then, the fading of the distancing light once so warmly and brightly shone,
Venomously, the fallen, with scorn from the redound hone, without repentance…
Where, spirits are slaine in dark, vexatious, in adorning to the animus of essence,
Tolling, foreverly, these belling whirs of doom, with resentence to conformity.
Defeated, everly, to reprobation, abound the ageless aberration, confound,
Astound, these redoubting, the consecrations decreed, where angels fly not freely…
       Throne
Unimaginably, then, the inevitable came, in abhorrence, so decadently infamed,
Through all odds, and beyond all shallowed meadows, within hapless happening.
Understand this final dictation, and this graven declaration, thus disillusioned,
Behest, of which is life does in due time, surely without hesitation, come to an end.
So what is this contradiction called life, if not means…to an end?
Such is an affirmation, to the ample conceptuary of the morbidst’ mortuary…
                Hostis Humaniis Generis