All hate and love is longing for the other
Fresh corpses thronging ponging ovens
Handled gloveless the loveless carapaces
Stoven skull corpses
Dragged at dull dawn from rancid chambers, emaciated and uncandled
Put through fatal paces, beyond any man’s handling
Breathless with excitation, the Ravager in odd leathers is led away
His dismal chamber well away from civilisation’s neat conveyance
Down to a lower manifestation of Hades,
That elevation and layer equated with the road not taken.
Alchemisland 
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