Evil is calm.
All abiding to the spirits of ineffable marveling.
No sound of a beating heart. Only
confusing words spoken from the book,
of a darker art.
Picking, peeling apart, the flesh of forgotten dreams.
A piracy of ruins; filled
with laughing skulls that cannot scream!
The high court below
sampling every acquired soul.
Humanity
dissolved by the BEAST; leaving
the remnants of hope in a bottomless bowl. It’s
quivering lip bites at another jowl. Attending devils,
just hackle and howl.
Etiquette has the pig open wide,
consuming all that forgot to wear the settlement.
Only the purged gets buried without a face.
There’s no drop of grace……
no not a trace.
