Toward entropy tending wilting flesh
Senescence essentialised what’s fresh
Decays before day’s end what’s left
Chaffe, loam to begin again
Bereft of feeling and want for feeling
Gaining false power by apathy
Shock of new pyramid, open palm theremounds time’s sands
Standing still for no man, like a fire as it stands
Rearing revolting, frank with demands
Darkness fringes the light-made land
Sidereal secrets bosomed beneath bear claws, twin stars alike to fault
As like to fall
High-ceiling chambers redolent with sage smells, seigneurial
Though rude and base this Man, swear any who knew him
Slippery eel, sticky hands like he orange peeled
Fellmonger has his orders, new face by midnight or else
Cavorters and revellers who know my face keep to themselves
Day fed its twice-twelves huffs into the next, things a path could tell
Statues in windows marking miniature Montos, drugs to sell
And bloodstreams afoot in which they will dwell, brown powder cell
Like a pit lift lowers seven layers, good intentions cobbles, down to Hell
Dante’s hell indeed, devil may cry but not when men die, rather laughter loud as bells
Peeling over the deepest dells
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