Thunder footsteps rumble down halls. A desert inside massive, stone walls. Inflicted with a scorpion mind. He was herald and holocaust combined. Weathered hands surrendered to chance. The buzzards dance their circling dance. He said “them that’s dead is gone, You give them to God and move on.”
“Stars hide your fires, Let not light see my black and deep desires. Conscience to slay, beasts to admire.”
A knowing smile to foe overhead. A reminiscence sodden with red. An eon-spanning, black résumé. Time’s meaning withered away. “All those I ever loved were dead, I couldn’t bear to love the ones left. I awoke and scaled the hillside, To see the world I had longed to defile. “
“Stars hide your fires, Let not light see my black and deep desires. Grim, hopeful screams; hideous choir.” Pray, will you hear The dying thoughts of hell’s pioneer? Hold your ear close, he can’t speak them clear.