deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Final Configuration

I, archangel of the holy host
Existed only as a ghost
In His eyes, so blind
Unjustified
As I perch above the skies

Unloved, I reach desperately for stars
But found only a set of scars
Poisoned like black thorns
That augmented
My gold halo into horns

The designs across the box
Whisper secrets to me
Reconfigure the locks
Thus is my decree

A dark void in the kingdom of light
Razor wire creep in the night
Like the twisting vines
Desecrated
Spires where angels pine

The designs across the box
Whisper across the sky
Reconfigure the locks
Where the godless sigh

Reserved for fallen angels only

Hierophantic
And in contempt
For those under the heel
Of a holy man
In reality
God damned
Borders what is real
Necro surgeons
In practice of death
To the last breath
�Til no one is left
This hell bound heart
After the start
Of the downfall from high
Into a world of man
We�ll tear your soul apart

Welcome the great Leviathan�s rule
I kneel, so glorious and cruel
Surely take the lash
Mutilated
By The Order of the Gash

The designs across the box
Open the rusted doors
Reconfigure the locks
Leave me wanting more