Alchemisland

Power surge separate the brave and the cowards

How long seems an hour in the dark, sable bower

Unstable, unable to be stayed, death can but be staved

Like hunger sent away in no meaningful way, only to reconvey

With strength equal that of thy first approach, a subject broached

By hosts of keener minds, yet consumes my mind, that dying

Which only the voiceless dead know, boasting not of it

That ill-gotten knowledge I sought it, so besotted I enrolled

Becoming a novice at the local lodge masonic on Molesworth

Street, conveniently across from the governments offices

I imagine odalisques herein offer a lot of orifices

To the oireachtas and the o fadas, the nation’s old fathers

We are a grey, baleful nation of willful, prideful flatterers

We take the best of fat, the thickest rashers, for ourselves

Whilst condemning greedy others to hell

In spite of our neediness

There’s a seediness and a seething air behind that green and ginger hair

Something imperceptible yet tangibly there, indeed quare

Layers and layers and layers of manner, no one shall ever know the man

He is handsome and clannish in his circle’s meagre acreage, yet the span

Of his inside equal to any one who came before, regardless of standing

Priam in his feeling and depth thereof no less than this man

Yet nothing utters, nothing glad from his mouth

Nothing from his hand which is not pried

Nothing in poverty and suffering which is pride

Priding that highest which the needmost defies, decries, denies

Calling that which is abstruse and naturally incongruent divine

What defilements occur resulting thereof threaten God

His flock are almost gone, the last of the doves taking off

We pretend everyone was in the RA, uncle at the GPO and beal na blath

But the more I read, the more everyone was getting raped by their dads

Lads in black told shagging is bad straddling a kid’s back and ass, rancid pastor

Bastard bastard papal actor, the papal bull got impacted by abactors in transit

Sore backdoor and asshole after you attend mass in a certain parish

The Bishop has ignored reports, according to one article, faultless in his vainglory

They took indoors like mercy’s own, then made child whores

Tortures and ardours endured by children, same made martyrs

Target practice for the cruel, the frustrated, the perverted, archers

Fear factor if the priest asks you to stay behind after catechism class

Try slinking out fast but collars me, captures me, catches me, ass of me

Dispatched with eagerly, innocence beleaguered by an old priest’s willy