https://i0.wp.com/lineriderpress.com/headlinepoetry/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Ulquiorra-by-EndlessRz-on-DeviantArt.png?resize=282%2C360&ssl=1

 

I sing to angels with the devil’s dancing mad

I singed the fable’s ironclad with praying hands

I raced insidious to tempos pitch temple’s bewitched

I itched a scratch of Rorschach’s black

I held my fingers crossed behind my back

 

I listened well and did I hear

The rebel from behind the mirror

The rabble from beyond the dear

The remnants of a vacant fear

The tempest of an empty ear

 

Redemption seared my soul a violent red

Sung words that I could not repent

And stained my hide a violin

Once sound of mind, now wakes the wild dead

Refrained my life to chains of rest

 

Apocrypha of a sarcophagus prostrates my insufferable

Esophagus of monochrome chromosomes torn from my reborn formless

As the rage that fuels my fire died, the sun will rise on smoke of spite

As if I’m wrong, at least I write, the word of those without a tongue

Who lost their toes when they were young

 

The fungus from inside my mind, recycled rhyme all serpentine

I lost half by the baptism of my brain, refractory I sacrifice my memories

The lyrics I had known in song, before the words had come out wrong

And by the dawn star light of pitch

I amputate the heart of lips

 

The cracking skin pulled over bone

An afterimage of an armada’s roar

As the picture frame of preaching porn

The earth will scorn God’s coronary

Life is only momentary

 

I score the path with ample wrath

And draft the world a second verse

I mask the furl of spiral birth

The baby is only a mother’s sin

The father reunited with his kin

 

I write the words as they come to being

Thralls of feeling that rhyme and reason

From my viewpoint you will sense my seeing

And unify the possibility redeeming

With amaryllis grown by pilgrimage of guillotine

 

Death is a God I don’t believe in

Dancing mad apprentice slab to gather grab and tear the map to Nirvana’s calamity

To cut the demon from the man, and seal freedom to the damned

And call the boy a shame on God, to a crowd of hatred, they applaud

And word a child as a monster, harvest moon to carve the fruit, a lover’s fraud, a singer mute

 

https://i0.wp.com/lineriderpress.com/headlinepoetry/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Dancing-Mad-Kefkas-Tower-by-Phead-on-DeviantArt.jpg?resize=290%2C747&ssl=1


Art Credit To: EndlessRZ, Phead