ThirdAuthor

i am the maggot!

in my cellar there is a pit

a sluice of death older than i

the pith where i feast on many lives

a hollow nigh the henge of demise

i am the grass
that grows in the field
the green rich vegetation
i am the lambs nourishing gruel
i am the maggot feces
i am the wolf that circles the field
back straight like a thief crouched
eyes disciplined in the grass
a warrior of the shadows
i am the maggot feces
i am the shepherd
that stands on the hill
from quiver mighty arrows are drawn
all but one fall to the ground

i am the maggot feces
body raining sweat drenched fear
hungry fingers trembling
bleeding from the tension
of the horse hair bow
i am the maggot feces
i am the wolf the arrow does not find
i am the pack that disembowel the shepherd and the herd
i am the rot of the carcasses strewn throughout the grassy field
i am the resin of darkness
i am what death left behind

i am risen from the grave
i have come to defile
your flesh and blood
lay your trembling hands
across the suppurate lesion
of a wound
that used to be my soul
i will bite a hole
through your grimacing face
and reach down your throat
pull out your heart
and fuck it
for i am the gluttony
of malice
and the lust for decimation
your life has been a gift
worth ripping apart
slowly
nothing personal
i hate everyone

i am the beast

that squats

at the end of your bed

and glares at you
while you're asleep.
my athena.
an efflux of drool dances down
the slight of your mouth.
i salivate
with each breathe you take.
my bois, litany, and liqueur.
i am your...
sentinel.
in whose image
have these meat incased bones
been pressed and formed;
intwined with veins and coated-
with such
the sweetest
flesh?
i leave as the morning breaks,
as you stretch to silence
your alarm.
i will never hurt you.
you are my "silent" friend,
and i am
your violence
betrothed and enslaved
to you.
i stare entranced
by the innocence
of your angelic face.
it calms me.
you are the closest
"thing"
I will EVER get....
to heaven.

set as naught
your self righteous contentions.
You who have been cast
of black mud, ash, and clay.
for i am
the sempiternal nemises
of envenomed deathless rage;
embracer of stygeon darkness.
more than your
flesh and blood can bare!
from beneath
the arcanum pith
of LEGIONs'
carrion shrine of depravity
i have emerged,
a servant to Chaos.
forged into the murky essence-
of Vampyre.