This heart of stone hides
a dream of a god whose voice
once was lost against

the terrific wind.
It became mutilated
then swallowed by the

cacophony of
silence. So, answerless he
slumbers now, yet still

ajar for long to
speak with a mortal one who
would dare to call thy true name.

You've cut ff your feet
to spite your head
Is there nothing left
in between?
is your whole life
blackened
and squandered
rotted and
gnarled
by gangrene?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.

How can you sit
there
with blood on your face
and not feel
it dry to a crust?
How can you sit
there
with gore on your hands
knowing you shiver
from lust?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead.
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.
You, too, must feel torment
and torture.
You, too, must be plagued
without cure.

Where are you going?
to hell and not back?
Did you buy your ticket
to ride?
or
will you walk
into
the bottomless pit
draped with your badges

flesh putrefied?

Heads on lapels like
an Easter corsage
dead lilies like
those on a grave,

a grave that you dug
then
stepped in to forage
to eat as a worm of the flesh.

Flesh young and tender
that flamed with desire
till your curse
extinguished
the fire.

*Join me, come in.
Come into my fire.
Join me, come in.
We'll wade through
the mire
with blood
in our mouths
and our eyes.

Taste of the pain,
the glorious pain.
Like a gift
I give it to you,
offered again and again,
a philanthropist
swollen with bounty,
who bestows what
he has
like a prize.