The Moor - Canto IV

I.     I carried on the Moor as my name, mouthing my curse
     through my serenade of tragedy that held no worse,
     a savage pursuit without respite through heat and freezing air
     on a conquest pervading deserts and snow to find joy somewhere -
V.     - "a day will come to spatter the Universe to my luminosity
     and reek vengeance on their amniotic minds as pulpit oratory;"
     with eyes that see no remorse and no kindred by my side
     the blade of passion speaks before me in vehement stabs behind,
IX.    melting the glistening frozen blood to fix my focus on pain,
     knee deep in a tumour of hate that grew 'till the enemy was slain.
     I traveled across mountains, killing without scruple or regret
     being the pleasure of the haunted in the sinister lunar aspect;
XIII.   I penetrated the hearts of the wisest - by the fools I was feared,
     my grace fed off their slaughter - a crescendo of blood and passion seared -
     - "a great man of expression calls out the will of his blood-lust and crimes,
     tells his era what he wilt and who carries it expresses the will of his time."
XVII   A great black wrath within me grew, spat snarling into form,
     void of faith and love, rimmed with wind and storm
     and therein rose vast wonders of sadism to be seen
     fathered from the plundered reflections of a dream
XXI.   fogging into nightmare for me whose place was set
     with wayward stars that absent, marred all creation with their theft
     as a lustrous scourge of fallen spirits basked in glory flew
     to drought the forbidden lakes in sacred altitudes;
XXV.   walking among shadows, sweet haunting music swathed the breeze
     as through thick mountain mist, until at last, past grasping trees.
     Crawling through different lands, it feel forever a Nomad I had been,
     as a burning flower I continued to grow of the moon, becoming unseen;
XXIX.  I pollinated the different lands with my fire and the moon as my own,
      the fire of hate never extinguished, forever burning at my mind's throne -
      - "trickling through the reeds of peace, I am the lake's gentle stream
      under the bleeding sky where puppets will drink of my nocturnal dreams;
XXXIII. I no longer am the pitied, self-contemptuous slave in disgust,
      taking puppets' blood akin their lucid thoughts, satisfying my lust."
      Drunk with the verse of horrors in numbers too great to discern,
      the rotting of two worlds for the conquering worm
XXXVII. and love a rare orchid so fragile in the bloom
      espied gasping breath under dark sheeted moons;
      drowned in empty black to embrace the stars of my Universe
      in alienation, still dragging through the mud of abhorrence perverse;
XLII.   I was blessed with a Promethean storm, a tranquility in a bottomless hole,
      forever I carried darkness on my back with my hope still mortal.
      A myriad of my great art in serenity chanted beauty in every breath
      from more than just flesh - the flame of my flower burns for death,
XLVII.  surmounting the scale of an endless mountain in my tears' restraint,
      my voice unspoken, I mourned unheard for my heart so desolate;
      a nocturnal apparition, an enemy of God, still bound by nature's law,
      so I remained silent and hidden, seethed and repugnant as the Moor.
LII.    I as my own redeemer, followed none but I, through rage manifested
      the confusion my mind swam in of timeless pain my heart now attested,
      as pride precedes the electric scent over the downfall,
      so I took my place from celestial posts before the firewall
LVII.   of dissonant choirs whose designed faith in one
      was embraced in this wraith whose fate was hung;
      moved to mirrors cracked with heavy lines,
      I rose snow-blind, through shifting sands of time
LXII.   erased the trace and taste of bitter wines,
      the grapes of wrath grew fat on this vine.
      I drowned in fathomless nightmares that ruled my dreams,
      yearning to sell my soul in the reeking mire of unearthly screams -
LXVII.  - "by my curses and imprecations, I ascend past man and beast,
      personified as the Moor, returning to my home in the east."