I: Sanity's Diamond Shore

A fortnight past I swam in madness.
Arriving at sanity’s diamond shore
I bear from saturated lungs a brackish revelation
I display trailing from my lips

Take within thyself this machination
And let cling to the mind
The ebon muk of purest thought
That has risen up again.

Release thy paradigm of lunacy
For as thou believeth what I’ve decreed
Is of a God, ‘tis wielded by a human mind.

Minions screech from below the summer’s night winds
That fill my eyes

“We’ve seen the golden shield splinter forth and decay in to a corpse.”

Their reveries extend for hope however
That the rotting worm feast will regain luminosity.

The infected wounds upon my speech
Are clearly evident to one, to thee
But elucidation will be attained
As thou pulleth skin to view the sinew within.

Once thou choketh on the flesh of this tale
Thy wrists and feet will be bound with love
And with each thrash the apparatus of thy mind
Will lacerate further and taint the lobes thereof with poison.

Using the shell of fear brought by calculation
It will be easy to cocoon thyself against the walls
And glide unscathed across the debris cast out
From beasts out of spite from their maw.

II: The Virus in Ignorance

With blind ambition caused by envy
I escape hostility which wish me harm
I’d make myself the ghost if hatred seduced me,
Haunting every nerve in my core.

Recoil any bite of anger from which
I’ve fueled by cursing your mind to an apparition’s,
For these are layers of gangrene land
Thou must peel from our aggravated consciousness.

Even with these gargantuan-howled words
Venom drips from a faux-alabaster visage
And drills undetected into our ever-present selves
While we involuntarily adapt to the virus in ignorance

Adoration for the face, agony as it departs, animosity as it burns us.

When the syndrome through which our eyes find opaque blur
Swells numb with the pus of irrationality
It bursts forth and drenches our edifice
With a maddening thirst for relief.

Even as we sear away the glop with loving acid
Our only salvation is to digest these workings
And pry our eyes from stupidity’s sleep
And crucify the face in feign of its intoxication

Although it seems our strength is not in its self enough.

I know it hurts thy mentality to feel the drenching,
You came to me in plea,

“His fangs dripped more pain than death after gnawing my worms through seasons counted eight.”

Reclaim thy crown from the soil
And harness great perception,
Midst the company of numerous fiends there must have been
A derelict who aimed thy disease

III: The Palace of Gold

Use the tools of heart and mind
To carve throughout the marble id a divine schematic
And read both light and dark
The things that have caused you to feel the heretic

Once hearing my new howl
Thou mayest believe it to be thy death knell
Yet release thy grip on the savior veil
To see that the sin may have been thy remedy.

Now crawl back from Purgatory and kiss reality,
Once you realize the extent of damage
You must wait for both beings to heal
Then you may exchange tongues.

The provider of thy world must be allowed to expel
Gastric pride and view painful truth
That it was he who poisoned thee,
And he who poisoned himself.

With gangrene and decay the result of his last assault
You may feel disinclined to commune
But you must take hie to the palace of gold
And wear the scars as maturity.

Now ends the benevolence of me
And even as I try to pull more entrails of faith from my gus
I find that my hands are too filled with it,
I hope this blood has spread a crocus of insight in thy mind.

“Keep the fiend in thy sights and allow his wings to soar the air no higher than the forest.  Remember his venomous chanting well and keep my own against the babble, for this will keep your soul from sinking into the brine.”