Apocalypso

 
 
 
Last wrench of intestines,
bleat of waning blood.
Dirge cry:  fine intentions
end in death sans resurrection.
Plague pyre stench engulfs.
Let the holy die, ghostly heathen
haunt
lost soul intersection.
 
Gargoyle on the piano.
Ghouls writhe and stomp.
Dervish flames on wolfbane
so damned hot.
Wailing and screaming,
this band has style.
Extremis trysts rise creaming
wet and wild.
Hell’s on fire.
We all expire
tonight.
 
Groove music shadows twilight.
Twirl through final fade.
Relax into madness,
dark magic
masquerade.
Our climax spasm of ectoplasm
ignites.
.
.
.

 

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