The unholy home of Lot levelled Its demoned temples malevolent scree. Coughs ebon My lungs. My drummond leaksprung ekes to ebbing Weeks left at best Each breath extension.
Some ungodly, should-be-upshuttered hour Found me shuffling like a gout sufferer through town’s tenements Abuse blue clouds confused Apollo’s endowments Her musical voice sharp pointed as a weapon Only more pleasant; a dirk velvet-curtained A curt muse. An enthused muezzin Is she An answered prayer Or a call to prayer?
No initiate symbols or handshake ringpulls Far from how you were raised, that finery. They want me confined, simple Slight light as from a dying Kindle at night Sliced her sleep-fighting face magpie pied. Gabber on at piping-hot-mouthed gatling gun speeds Rat on me I’ll stab you deep Fratlike need, I’m flatlining bags of speed… Read more: RING SELECTION
Sleet cold smile Discerned behind His ornate helm of iron Narrowly-visored frontispiece Bearing a rook’s beak in crooked steel A rounded pate inlaid with fascinating lines Mythical scenes from canons yet-unseen. He Whose comet is not yet come around Does not abound in comrades.
Alchemisland 
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