Visions & Obsessions

Monday, May 2, 2011

Triptych

-Geist 1988-

My hand on the planchette
Drifting letter to letter
Points to answers I want to hear
Ideomotor effect, perhaps
I have always been a poor medium

Instead I seek your face
in ectoplasmic tintypes
Snapped by a spiritualist
I paid him to capture them
Surreptitiously

Black and white, silver moonstone mirrored
My beautiful specter haunting the dark spaces
Pale and dusty and bloodless
Emerging from shadows like gauze on a trick wire
False Apparition, passion that never was, passion nonetheless.



-Warlock 1998-

Terrible
Unleashed upon the world
I may have broke the circle
But Sygils traced in dust
Couldn't hold you anyway

My vain and exquisite Beast
Comes in a pleasing form
Wailing for sacrifice
With sharp tongue slashing
Plunge the knife in

An incomplete incantation
Ritual blood spilled and wasted
A yellow sickness of possession
Left me abandoned, fevered
To retch you from my being like an ill humour



-Angelus 2002-

In the beginning there was your hand
A simple gesture
Your hand in mine
A bird feather touch as time falls away
The hourglass emptied into aeons

And In the silence
Rushing of wings and wings
I am purified by oblivion
Heaven's light too bright then black
My soul devoured by Seraphim fire

Reborn
Into beatific, divine madness
I remember the sacrament
The salt on your cool skin
And the candy snap of your hollow bones


1/2011

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