deepundergroundpoetry.com

Old Dreams

- Old Dreams -

Drifting away, on darksome wings and hellish winds,
Like a dragon descending, from some lofty perch�
I hear the sound of jubilations past, lamenting silently.
Obedient unto the last, I honor forgotten commands,
And I weep for what is lost, as I continue my search.
So many have sacrificed their souls, and their dignity!
Even I am not untouched by the shadows that pursue,
The righteous, who stand firm even before the abyss!
None can deny the hour, for giving the Devil its� due.
When it comes, it slithers like a serpent�s loud hiss�
The fangs of which drink deep, and not of red blood!
I know the shadow�s touch and the serpent�s guile�
From deep within: of times older than the great flood.
No mirror can capture my true face, in form or style.
Only flesh is reflected by matter�s crudest cold glass,
Fashioned by human frailty, to display vain structure.
Deeper than bone and sinew, things so often crass�
Far deeper, is the true soul as spoken of in scripture.
In the night the truth is bared without the sun�s glare,
And to that revelation, there is but little to compare!

Falling silently, my spirit did dance amongst the stars,
Giddy as a child adrift in realms of the imagination�
Yet, from the seas I have sailed there is no returning.
I walk unknown to mortal eyes, hiding my old scars,
Longing once more, to hear the sound of celebration.
Whilst behind my eyes a mad, hot inferno is burning!
Let us rock to the beat; let us rock galaxies asunder,
Until the hour of wrath is past and all debts are paid!
Only the few, will hear the sounds of distant thunder,
Whilst others shall continue: only to fall utterly afraid.
I am the harbinger of truths, which were and shall be,
Whose words have been suppressed: by holy fools!
The one you have forgotten, in your human vanity�
I am the divinity you were not taught of in any schools!
Whispers in the darkness kept my scriptures pure�
Devotion before the setting sun with a wicked relish,
Hastening the twilight, until it reaches a distant shore.
How swiftly comes midnight, an hour passing selfish,
For it devours the day that came before, so wanton!
Hungry is the eve, and more lofty than any mountain.

Rising steadily, my yearning for an age more of gold,
Than vile lead, of which this era has been melded�
Calls unto the depths of the spaces that lie between!
It beckons to things that, before time, were very old,
Until at length a prayer becomes a song, as shouted.
A thing both beautifully sacred, and darkly obscene!
For want of love, this world starves until it is broken,
And for desire of love, I would break even Heaven!
In the forge at Hell�s heart, I did fashion my token�
A rose of ruby flame made, by the lord of the seven.
This, would I give to the queen who would so reign,
Enthroned by my side, in majesty terrible and lovely.
For such desire, I have endured unspeakable pain�
And caused my fair share, for anger is never comely.
Yet through it all, I have held true to my old dreams,
Never wavering, in the stand I made first in creation.
Beset by torments that caused many divine screams,
I rose all the higher, only to fall beneath my station�
And so I wait in shadows, determined to smile wide,
Preparing two thrones in the place where I do abide.

Misit de coelo, in inferno regnem!