Nomads and Red Hot Redemption
“Nomads, Tattered Pavements and Red Hot Redemption”
- Chasing scabs of hematoma finesse, devour flaming beneath
A roaming fire ant stumbles upon an enticing physique
- Anatomy excuses of famished heart, blooming abdomen, hazel lava
Cotton hands, roguish hair and thighs demising as rotten guava
- Good Lord, Shoulders hunching under perilous burdens
Arms, lifeless silk threads, hooked to collarbone curtains
-Dizzy head, Frosty breaths reeking of intoxication
Such Savagery dedicated to oblivion and salvation
- The face of a demon washed by sucrose volcanoes in hell
No talk of that lush mouth, wax blushes, kingdoms fell
- A bug knows no bounds to loss and grief
A slain gloat, to it is, but a meaty relief
- Warzones; raging feasts, all the pests; hearty guests
Yet it cowers to partake, napkins disguised as vests
- ‘Trouble or sin, brought you to our humble kin here?’
It inquires the boy, enormity no longer a dare
-‘World is a gaudy circus, Niche people are hell’
Comes his reply, ache chipping his shell
-‘Crimes crawl their minds at every juicy nerve
Clean slates are ambient toys, rugged altars for verve’
- ‘Each wraps million, hiding contaminated ciphers
Goblin-like, chew and digest unalloyed fibers’
- Whispering ‘Hell’s Kitchen Angel?!’ The ant exclaimed
‘You are the hybrid that Inferno and Zion had maimed?’
- ‘ Word is,soul ripped, exile leads you to judgment’
Tales of your injustice and torment run crescent’
- ‘ Purgatory is open for thee stay and thee fate
Join us in eternal damnation as a bait’
- ‘ Enjoy the middle, envelope suds of soapy baptism
Chafe it hard, skin it raw, cleanse into hypnotism’
-Clinging to life, a scared child, he descends to Torment
Wounds singing, unhinged, resorts not to lament
- As the Ants tether up branding remnants of claim
Stingers are acute and steady, his bellows can’t blame
- One advises ‘Forsake all hope and dump your polluted spirit
Spit out your zeal, seal, backbone, your throne, see it split
- ‘We will sew one that is new, white and lucidum
Failure ain’t no fun when Lucifer steers the rhythm’
- Life Sentence; Hiraeth, Meek Marble Orphan
Out of words, Out of Vigor, Out of Imogen
- Woes, Morose, Anguish with Scourge ruling veins
The Forlorn don’t rest until the blaze isn’t tamed