The Moor - Canto V

I. The skies swifted in a scarlet haze upon my pernicious return to primeval lands, seven years departed in morbid concern, blurring my trails and snuffing the afternoon rays, arriving in shuddering spite with quenchless and virulent ways; V. in rituals of the damned I was unfettered and chose to roam, dwelling with impulse and throwing more than vexing stones in a solstice haunting of deprivation where nightmare treads of a one soul covenant revering the tethered ones dead; IX. the still water lake swam a garden of fervent life tonight as I danced with the statues of memory in the pale moonlight, sensing the puissant beauty that once waited for me there with velveteen whispers that played with her elegant hair. XIII. After years of agitated silence I came stained in fornication, storming from deprived years under the waxing moon's lamentation when the winds of hate blew across these fanatical lands they blinded my words to leave with feeble hearted plans; XVII. a thistle embedded my mind upon her grave under lifeless trees, ushering impurity with a demon of unrest, crowned in leaves; in a sunless nether the porch of her death is where I stand, haunting my dreams to seal her wretched tomb with cold hands XXI. as nectar stirs up my desires in a morbid purpose to search for the repugnant cunts who tasted the tears of my hurt; love's old promises were wept upon her grave in mortal dismay, an Angel had stolen my heart and death took both away, XXV. in plight came my ravenous wanton for cabal death that night as I lurked through the streets under the crescents dim light. At the stroke of midnight I polished verse and hearses in a poisonous pen dipped in the ink to surgeon curses XXIX. with a hand of morgue through what pleased me more squabbling in their cremation on the thirteenth floor, sporting a haggard grin as they shuddered in my eyes at the house of my love's heir apparent, tortured in dissonant cries XXXIII. to his new family whose screams came as sweet music, so reckless had my dreams become morbidly cruel and sick, turning their screams to shrieks in maniacal horrors turned worse with sharp rage in an immense tantrum to escalate my curse; XXXVII. choking in warm ponds of blood, they lay weak and torn like mandragora roots with lissome orifices in a jugular adorn; drenched in blood, their bodies stagnant in tonight's inauguration with demonic passions climbing the tide of the forsaken. XLI. Their blood stank with devotion in my exempt from guilt and doubt into the midst of atonement destined for my blade in poignant sprouts: on this malevolent night the wind lashed its limbs in wintry spite when midwinter crosses Spring, plagued in bloody delights, XLV. embittered with cursed retort, an emanation of phantom madness, bespattered and appeased, benighted raucous and remorseless; the moon lengthening silhouettes as shadows dance in descent on upturned lips to unveil the greed in bitter needs spent XLIX. as they hide their faces under Leonine veils of pride when in Luna's embrace blood and lust as they collide; too long have I skulked different lands in a nomadic drift where in a glorious portrait the paint haunts in shifts. LII. My phantoms howl their fogbound and dissonant serenades, arching their backs in praise to shed Temple balustrades when I hunt these vestal vermin broken and unafraid in my thirst for murder of the one soul covenant I made; LVI. drained from strength with a flickering breath of the moon, finding trust in hate weaved a poetic spell for my lady's tomb, such I suffered hatred and grief in the art of my crimes with eyes swelling with the tears of a curse, interred by my time. LX. The sun ascends, magenta spirits fight to taint the skies in cadaverous maladies where the elements of life and death abide; for hours I lurked the cemetery grounds, ashened and fatigued, through the mist I dug up my love's grave, and her bones I retrieved.