The rods are broken
the rails are cracked
the train sped on
stacks glowed red to
whether live or die matters not
it is written..ironed stone
headed for the wreck the black train whipped and shot
steel flying off like flecks
of death
people hoarded the windows leering
ripping life from their faces
lips curved in sardonic joy
Kalki sped his horse howling at this life passing
iron greed, and fatuous men, 
woman carved by surgeons knives against creep of age
empty of all but desperate desire to remain forever reflected beauty
dancing in their mirrors lie
turned instead to twisted caricatures of that they sought
knowing nothing of value, fish lips stretched over bling bling teeth sharp as razors
they ripped each other in obscene feast of their own flesh
no inner light can save this crew their blackened cocks or rotted cunts
sacrificed long ago to dark lords death

The rods are broken
the rails are cracked the train is headed for the deep
this is Kali's night as darkness falls
those that make it if at all
did not attend this killers ball
the wielders of the sword
this battles long fought hordes
thousands the years they've battled
working in lights magick strong

we fall or stand by choice we make
to live or die in black pooled lake
in acquiescence the pathetic wallow in its depths
their horror eternal, never slaked

walk in blindness my little ducks
the hooded one cometh with razor scythe
your narcissistic fear his invitation
to be here
and no way out it's
death or worse
fight in light
or stinkin' pit
the the rods are broken
the rails are cracked
there aint no turning back

The end of an age
light is birthed

1 comment:

Burnie said...

The picture is my best buddies grave. My cat Zeq. I loved him so and still do. It tore my heart to hold him dead. But I am given a gift. Every time I take a picture and mirror it like I do a cat sits atop the rock. I know he rides shotgun at my side with all the others that have died, my friends from the other side.