Absent In The God Storm

by Cooper   Dec 22, 2006

From your promiscuous eyes,
Can you see the storm getting closer?
Disarray amongst the skies,
fog faces spitting acidic goodbyes.
Filth in your face,
cradled to strangling embrace,
waiting in scorch, for a God's heretical prize.

Coward, unbeliever,
Foul spawn conceiver.
Lay your wishes to the storm,
whipped in the wind,
severed in lightning.
Black widow skirts unpinned,
the skin on celestial stained bones
pale and yet, still ever whitening.

Pour the ethereal wine,
into raven clasp glasses,
through the sacrificial circle,
Hallowed hands grip the passes.
Can you feel the storm,
can your heart beat to it's drum,
attuned to the ceremonial artform,
Which circle of Hell is this storm from?

Do your sins wash away,
when gold serpent blades strike home?
Are you the heretic's reprieve,
a meal worm's buffet,
Or are you what the dead believe?

Storms are getting closer,
tamed and quick as steel,
a banshee's composer,
shrieking from your wicked rape unreal.
The tide is high,
mind the carrions with no reply,
And watch the storm gather,
or is it upside down,
and a slit throat you rather?


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Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago


    Perfect! I loved it! And I totally agree with Gem! Beautiful opening!

  • Once again I applaud your wonderful skills. I thank you also once again for the comments. haha...doubt I could impress you. Thanks always!
    99 billion/5


  • 17 years ago

    by Gem

    Sorry i can't comment constructively, i have a lot going on at the moment since my nan's passing. I want to thank you however for the lovely comment you left on the poem about her.
    I read through this poem and the way i was reading, i interpreted quite a powerful message between the lines.

    "From your promiscuous eyes,
    Can you see the storm getting closer?"

    I especially loved the opening.