PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Torn from the tomb, at the same time the womb explodes
Satan is standing there, giddy and drunk with lost virtues
The innocence was slaughtered so seductively
This bastardly man standing next to her, spreads his wings
And the lost souls cry out with the raging of indignity

The bullet could not kill what doesn't die
Damien is dead, but the curse is refined
By a thousand million injuries
That flew forth on fallen seraphim wings
His sin was known to their family

The child is dead, the child is dead
It breathed for a moment, then rested its head
Its face twisted in torment, and teeth sunkered in
Bruised and bleeding wings that could not fly

Said the priest to the levite, the twenty third time
"This is all over, we've left them behind
The damned unholy swine can see
That this is not for eternity
A sword raised for justice shall strike at the heart
Of newlywed terror and feigned design:

But the child is dead! The child is dead!
It breathed for a moment then rested its head!
And we plunged the dagger into it's throat red
So the guilt of the levite would assuage the dread!"

So Satan, and Damien, the levite, the swine,
The priest and the seraphim, Merrin, Karras, and the sulbime
Alice, her son, and the succubi, nodded an appeal to innocence divine
The wound was incurable, the penance to great
The grief of insanity, turning to slate
And shale, and grime, and misery failed
To entail the bruised heart that was spitting in his face

The children of the jackal chased him, into the burning and swathy mire
And banished him out, while the ones who grew old wept
The only pencance for Damien the dead
Was to live in a thorntree, and carry it's weight
Reminding him daily of every crime
While the seige was lost for a time

Said the priest to the levite, the twenty third time
"It is all over, you've left them behind"...