The Avenger

by on September 28, 2011 :: 0 comments

The charmer stands outside the door, thorn-hearted, shimmering in wolf’s skin.
Cupboards bear artificial children
I am the grandfather of wastes
Dump the rotten history on me
The door is hell-mouthed
Bringing in Lucifer’s legions
There’s a sound of hell
There’s a sound that pursues like hell
There’s a sound that kills you like hell

Empty is the room
Empty is the mechanical mind
Black towel hangs on the door, wardrobes stand tall shamelessly,
Black wardrobe exposes its viciousness, bed sleeps succinctly,
The uncouth carpet appears mild,
The furrowed blinds dangle showing the muddy diamonds,

The charmer sits inside the room, rose-hearted, shimmering in sheep’s skin.

Eight-eyed, eight-legged, eight-mouthed
Eight the number of hell
Slashes the petal eight times
Eight o’clock hell spreads cancer-like
I decay, decay, decay
Save me with your radioactive love.

editors note:

I’m going to hold my plutonium lover tightly while I spray a can of aracnicide to keep that sheep/wolf at bay. Then I’m going to redecorate. – mh

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