to be so sure of one's own step
such a blessing, ever fleeting
confronted with a myriad of truths
with no solidity, no unicity
beckonings of consequence
of Lucifer's mendacious pronged annihilating tongue
i've been consigned to this pitiless magnetism
a pole that grows ever the austral
universes twisted into impious universalism
all the isms pouring tar into the chrism
mankind covered in the muck and the sludge
traversing manifold destiny
the end itself has been rotated 180 degrees
drop to your haggard knees
while a bad thing begets another bad thing
and the blood of Mary flows into the estuary
we inhale smoke from the carnal cloud
becoming slaves to sensation, feel the contraction
so prone to the emptiest of abstractions
we're so far from where love was
observe what's become of us
never forget what has been lost
never forget the inmost death
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