A Sincere Feeling of Precious Need by Den-of-Dispater, literature
Literature
A Sincere Feeling of Precious Need
Are, You, Wanting? Just a pause, a moment spent, or given
Freely transcribing, from sin to sinner, a canvas driven
Paint the whorls of her heart, stroke the brush upon the skin
Where there is no hatred true, a thiefless girl cannot make sin
Snatched from cradle, thrown to grave, err a glance was sent to sky
Listen well to heed the dripping laughter, 'neath dark angel's cry
Blackened men, with faces white, pale as snow, bloodless, tender
Feeling truthful, true to a fatherless heart, wayfared but never render
Sent beneath the speckled band of gold, parched for bluer blood
Never knowing sweet b'low the eyes of wanting 'neath the pristin
Seventh to the Dawn by Den-of-Dispater, literature
Literature
Seventh to the Dawn
Whence forgotten seven sighs
I heard a man tell seven lies
As list'ning birds did cease their songs
I saw a man do seven wrongs
'Pon the heavens, no sacred knaves
But then he did dig seven graves
Though wrathful but yet without sin
I saw this man jump direct in
As thoughts forsook and shadows fell
I witnessed him crawl straight to hell
As in a state of mind he crossed
And ever was he quickly lost
The moral is, though sadly sung
But never should your hands be wrung
For joy is but a cheerful pain
So goes my careful wrought refrain
And sorrow is a happiness won
Through pleasures known and miles run
Unto the world we've not a fr
Thoughts of Godly Intent by Den-of-Dispater, literature
Literature
Thoughts of Godly Intent
Killer quickly! Before they see you! Want to age but, cannot be you? Want to truth, but fraught with lie? Try to hasten, just to die. Try to buyback, just to lose; try to squabble, just to choose. Are you hearing? You're the last! Eat like ostrich, time is past. Tense the wording, age the Hell, try at midnight--rebel yell BUT! Do it softly, and none too quick; got a match? Candlestick? Righteous wailing, fill the night, pat your back, and take your flight. God is waiting, Devil's food; spawn the happy, love the rude and ever, always, insensitive.
Prick.
Roundabout yet home again
Whence the bicker'd twilight come
Roused upon by clinging hen
Hence the flight'd will be done
Once before I gave my will
Up upon a knighted cloud
Ne'er again to breathing still
With'n tattered musty shroud
Hapless did I wander north
To the frozen bleak expanse
Sent my falt'ring heartbox forth
When her eyes bespoke a trance
Now I see a one distraught
Fetching shades of soften'ng fire
A heart as mine so overwrought
Resplendent in phoenix fire
Return afar from northern frost
To quench within passion's flame
Iron forged with strength once lost
In binding lives 'twill be the same
Watched from the near edge, eagle wings in Flight,
Sailed across the stars, saved the boy from Night;
Willed across the worlds, cried unto the Gods,
Cradled close my heart, leaving me to Nod's.
Wade out to the shore, walk unto his Side,
Be forever friend, dance the blushing Bride.
Sail across the sea, render unto Him;
Make your joyous noise, keep the sorrow Slim.
Coming 'last to home, bed b'neath the Moon;
Sorrow's blanket spread, nightfall coming Soon.
Resting dearly earned, peaceful dreams of Spring;
Seeing you again, when our souls take Wing.
Beauty in Movement Perceived by Den-of-Dispater, literature
Literature
Beauty in Movement Perceived
Moving clouds craft shapes of gneiss and iron,
As a still mist is but shattered ruby and glass;
With a roll 'pon the carpet comes rug-burn,
But give time, and the hours shall come to pass.
Lie still to watch the vision of day's turn,
Lest the daydreams of kings escape the grass.
Whence come the sleeper to these gated dreams:
It a passing fancy to the fool seems.
WAIL!
Smoke the stomping FAILURE!
Watch the rip'ning Tale of the Fish
Oft the record, off the record,
Lay a quiet, scaly wish,
Glitter'd bright, as stars at night
Blinding like the noonday Sun
Fall'n like the prideful One
Have a piece of peace and smiling
All the hands in pockets whiling
Find the pie with everybody's thumb
Seek the boy who hasn't any plumb
Find him waiting, turn him Outside-In,
Boil't well in oil, stick'm with a pin!
Yesterday is ought,
But only tomorrow's Sin.
...AND!
Furthermore; Look You Here, Look At Me!
Dare you not face the Northman, the Hessian, or the Mirror?
What fear prompts less than Man
Behind your condescending grin?
Slick, fat, and wet, behind that double chin.
Your eyes water empty, your tank runs dry.
Spread. Your. Wings.
It matters naught; you cannot fly!
Seated, beated, bleated, I am watching
Ever seeing, never seeing, ever judging.
Your words are sweet and sorry understanding,
Dripped with honey,
Laced with Lies.
Were I a pie, a consortium of pies...
You'd have your hand in me.
Ripped and torn asunder, crust gone under,
Caught red-handed, juiced, you would cry,
Here Is God
With a burning hand, and a flaming cross
My pain is real, I hate to feel
The sense of gaining ever-lost
My Lord!
Put down the hand that rocks the grave
My Lord!
Within biting flames you roast the knave
My God, My God, you cry the wars
The heavens open, to bloody shores
With swords of words, the demons spawn
From black-robed lips of Sacred Whores
My Lord!
What demon princes lie in wait
My Lord!
They laugh, the Jester, testing fate
With wings of virtue torn to hell
What tortures endured as he fell
What lips cry mocking up to you
What lies the men in gold would spew
My God, My God, if they but knew
My Lord!
No-o