I. CASCADE

the canvas composes twilight skies weaving shadows across the skin of an ancestral womb
where future's holy dust is raised from the rotted echoes of memory's tomb.
a scythe lingers against the fields of faceless passivity claiming the next celestial pain,
destined to be washed away from a brief night's sweat with a fresh mourning reign.
blackened white seedlets shoot forth their roots as the aged hold many a coloured fear --
all to be siphoned by the penitent gesture -- loneliness in search of a tear.

II. ANTIS (ones who are opposed)

sounds lie in silence for the exasperated dragon squirming on a hot tin flake
with moon knight dreams and an application to the semi-subterranean wake.
eyes of his dancing necromancer stare vampirically through his orchestral loving light
at our childish accusations choked between God's damned chains and the cybernetic byte.
an ancient sorcery has cloaked itself within the dry solace of a falsified care --
alienated from cause, mosquito skulls scream to be cast from their spidery steel lair.

III. ANALGESIA (insensitivity to pain)

the wisdom to transgress the pain of life's evanescence
is crippled by a constitution stoned on its own euphoric decadence --
pounding rhythms, scattered visions; no more will we heed, no more will we bend
to the profitable crucifixion of an estranged heart drowning in lies told never to mend.
let us become one virtuoso of painted rage bleeding the contours of a new resolution,
massaging the leech with a grain of salt -- vomiting retribution via revolution.

The Vampirical Chameleon