Truth moths to the arm-twisting light of fire’s trial
Reveilles from the burned, flame-earned music
Hooded in sackcloth, a court reviler unties confines uniting flesh
Removing mesh unveils tools which truth invite
From troglodyte mouths to whom rectitude illusion
Solutions to matters academic discovered in probed unsutured wounds
Unscrupulously, with rueful application plying by his trusted instruments
Prying apart the pliant flesh, wince-inducing splits; steaming mince below
A boiling rod forced into torture-wrought holes upon a form.
The liar’s front subsides to ash
Truth triumphs like a prime lion from fights
Tried and found unwanting, the hardy pride
Of those who never consider how they will die
The brittle self of the reflecter, ever meeting new ends
On a blood-rusted rack, pretenders rent
Spent, the ardourer casts aside gizzard-spattered mallet
Rapist’s smashed face like an all-red palette
Raphael’s Portrait of Tommaso Inghirami gown
Winding up for the day, no Murakami wind down.
Pale birds hug cloud-tailgating railings above the rugged burg
Grailhousing once, grouse-crazy woods, chambers full of weaving maidens
Casements of stained glaze blazing with light
Speaking to the patron’s wealth, images of weeping angels
All health has fled this ill, death-ready place
Turned by termagance to a place of dark’s permanence
Writ in ravishment, all remnant of visage banished.
Alchemisland 
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