Satan's Epiphany [iv]

Mmkay, new project. I am gonna write a series of poems...that tell a story. Like a poetic version of a concept album. Chaa. This is part 4. OMG I am in a poetic mood today.

Procastination- Satan's Epiphany {iv}

The clerihew,
on your tombstone, it ages beyond
control. The viscous stain, on the
cold marble or ormolu makes
you seem like you didn't ever exist.

The stars at night burn with a teenage
orange. They scream like babies in a ward.
Lucifer, whispering sweet anthems in my ear,
I won't listen. I cannot. I will be deaf for you.

The air,
circulating around my toes, where I am,
I don't know. I barely recognise my reflection
in the distorted river sheen. A waxen face,
forehead bumpy as a sack of rocks. The
hair hangs like a noose. A lunatic is loose.

The wind howls some forgotten sorrow,
taking the rotting corpses of trees in its path.
Lucifer, still grasping at my shoulder,
suicide he sings, my release?

The bridge,
I stand upon, the vacant ducks waddle
by, it's reproaching midnight. The werewolves
circling underneath, they expect a feast.
I won't give them the satisfaction.

The mist rolls in like a redneck four wheel
drive, I am alive, the ale-infused breath
of the passers-by make me yearn for my
sleep. Lucifer can wait and sulk in the
brimstone. I am no Salem witch.

I absolutely loved;
'The air,
circulating around my toes, where I am,
I don't know. I barely recognise my reflection
in the distorted river sheen. A waxen face,
forehead bumpy as a sack of rocks. The
hair hangs like a noose. A lunatic is loose.'

It sounded like REAL poetry. If that makes sense. Simple words to sound beautiful.

Wow. You are enough to make every poet want to put down their pens in jealousy.

I love it.

Love it...more than words can express...I hope there is more to it.

Hey .. HEY.. HEY. Youll go far kid...Take it away....Yay!