Wednesday, 12 June 2019

Void Procession - Poem

Waiting on the altar
for the master's blade
to rise above her heart,
lying unafraid

Illuminated by
naked Candlelights
Surrounded by the black-
hearted acolytes

Dismal chants fill the room,
the blade finds its mark.
Eyes watching from beyond
peering from the dark.

The clergy revels in
her spilling life's blood,
they drink deep and then bathe
in the crimson flood

Her black soul awakens
on the other side
Guided by the goddess
of the eight-limbed stride.

She comes to the burning

cosmic partition.
Passing unscathed to the
long mad magician:

Waiting in his lost tomb
for her secret name.
To etch with mortal blood
in the Book of Flame.

Joining the shadows in
the void procession.
Transfixed in their burning
spectral obsession.

They call out to us now
under the moonlight
They call to the children
of hidden Blacklight.