deepundergroundpoetry.com
Absinthe Dirge
Weary eyes focus,
through smoke and tinder,
at figures, most alabaster.
Weaving spells of lust and thickness,
sending desire heavenmost.
These are the stuff of dreams
and madness, the pursuits of the hedon,
the goals of Lucifer.
Who can deny the kisses of the sirens?
Who can withdraw from cursed arms?
To drown in such a coil is the dream of all men.
To know the end of one's soul is the aim of all humanity.
Who can break from silken folds and still proclaim themselves.... HOLY!
How cruel these flights,
always ending in sickness and pain,
vomit and aspirin.
Why is the search for self a sure issue of agony?
The price for such experience,
the toll demanded at the door before you leave.
The cold stare of the whore who whispered in your ear.
Oh, how when layed in the valley of bones
did I scream!
To lie on velvet pillows
and draw from the China pipe!
To fall and never reach an end,
to fall and never have bones broken.
To finally wash the scent
of Death from my clothes
to know the taste of cream
and the sweat of Women, Jehovah!!
This is my damnation.....
to know times of joy,
and yet to ever be ready.
To be drawn from such pleasure
to linger and dream,
stranded for measured time
in the womb of Hell.
To wallow with Cretins and fools,
to suffer the demands of Mad men.
To eternally watch and witness,
the undoing of man,
and the work of God.
through smoke and tinder,
at figures, most alabaster.
Weaving spells of lust and thickness,
sending desire heavenmost.
These are the stuff of dreams
and madness, the pursuits of the hedon,
the goals of Lucifer.
Who can deny the kisses of the sirens?
Who can withdraw from cursed arms?
To drown in such a coil is the dream of all men.
To know the end of one's soul is the aim of all humanity.
Who can break from silken folds and still proclaim themselves.... HOLY!
How cruel these flights,
always ending in sickness and pain,
vomit and aspirin.
Why is the search for self a sure issue of agony?
The price for such experience,
the toll demanded at the door before you leave.
The cold stare of the whore who whispered in your ear.
Oh, how when layed in the valley of bones
did I scream!
To lie on velvet pillows
and draw from the China pipe!
To fall and never reach an end,
to fall and never have bones broken.
To finally wash the scent
of Death from my clothes
to know the taste of cream
and the sweat of Women, Jehovah!!
This is my damnation.....
to know times of joy,
and yet to ever be ready.
To be drawn from such pleasure
to linger and dream,
stranded for measured time
in the womb of Hell.
To wallow with Cretins and fools,
to suffer the demands of Mad men.
To eternally watch and witness,
the undoing of man,
and the work of God.
Published 20th Mar 2013
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24th Mar 2013 5:57pm
hummmm... this has my mind going I am always trying to see what the words don't say.. and for me this was that age old battle of good and not so evil.. oh I got it.. the need vs want...
its like trying to change from that person who loved freely or to become a nun..but that last verse is makig me re think everything that came before .
as and is not so much a battle but one that was already lost or won depend on how you look at.. but watching this push n pull of otheres trying to find that balance between the two.. heck i think I confuse myself trying to say that I really enjoyed this it was a pleasure to read thanks for sharing
its like trying to change from that person who loved freely or to become a nun..but that last verse is makig me re think everything that came before .
as and is not so much a battle but one that was already lost or won depend on how you look at.. but watching this push n pull of otheres trying to find that balance between the two.. heck i think I confuse myself trying to say that I really enjoyed this it was a pleasure to read thanks for sharing
24th Mar 2013 6:57pm
Ha! Such wonderful thought! Temptation always beckons, we obey its lure and then pay the price. We are definitely able to author our own destruction! So humbled and happy you enjoyed this write. Thanks so much, Mike.
