Lillies and Remains

Friday, September 10, 2004

THE DEAD COWS

donna: im a bit of a poet (=

do you remember
when i was you
and you were me?
but now im a ghost
a pale white host
to your raptures below
and i would feed it
between my clothes
so you could remember
the beautiful rains
from the tortured heavens
but the sunshines gone
replaced with the Cold
but i can still see you
through you hazy halo,
Angel of Men
and i will hold on
to the rays from the sun
to the taste of your tongue
like a dark candle
i will burn on.
with elegant grace
we will sift through black lace
i refuse to lie
on the tray of the dead
i am cold but i am not dead
and the passionate ones will burn in their flames
but i will still feed
on your heavenly pain
and when Dark raises his arms
the moon will be soft
and the sun will be hard
i will burn on your crucifix
with my sadistic return from Golgothas black pits.
and we will scream
in Hates rancid waste
and i will drop
this mask from my face
the flowery decay of carnations in bloom
i can just taste my excruciate doom
and when my blood rots on your sheets
we will still sleep there with delirious dreams.
i will wash the blood and milk from your eyes
and when you can see
we will feast with the flies
all over our skin
to rape the Pure Virgin
with the Nights own semen
and we will embrace
in this foggy landscape
empty and gray
outside this room, that you cant escape
and when a Black Death
comes through your door
you will be standing there
asking for more
and we will reunite
in the field of dead cows
in the field of dead cows
we will reunite

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