Angel Of Lower Cultures
I did not sell my soul to the Devil to gain knowledge like Faust,Nor did I even accept money to collect souls,
I take'm....
Mephistophiles, I hide in my sarcophagus,
Pins jammed deep into my flesh, from my mouth appeares Gaia,
The salt water, my sweat,
Trees and grass, my hair,
Ground, my skin,
The core, the lava, my bloodpumping heart mechanism,
Superior ruler, the universe my palace,
Releasing the titans upon Ge, the Godly ancestors,
They sat on my lap, as their throne,
My children, even Dione,
The 13th one, and not a number to fear,
You did not form man out of clay, and I was not cast from heaven,
Syncreto-Paganism, I deliver knowledge of good and evil in the form of a snake,
To the pitiful human race, in Greek mythology a symbol of wisdom,
Spreading my wings, night falls, whipping priests with spiked balls,
Swallow churches, healing the sickminded,
Even solomons temple,
The sun as my third eye, I shed light upon the Earth,
I hover above the clouds and cry get your umbrella,
The only wise lifeforms are animals, who did not develope language,
And not use others skin as coats and throw away the meat,
Tired as I was dwelling the ever lasting skies, I came back in the form
of a human, feeling the misery, the pathetic weak existence,of a race who claimes to be superior,
I tasted the joys of "heaven" and saw the face of "god", and smacked it,
Ran over it like a stampede of 10.000 elephants,
Sitting down with the messiah drinking his blood, he was my drinking partner,
Ate his flesh, but he did not, I was the 12th person,
Cannibalistic, anthropomorphic but not his flesh and blood,
Delirious they were as they saw him rising from his narrow grave,
Drugged by his own sickness, but his father did not see,
So he spiked him, cowardly as he was, but I made him rise again,
No silver coins for Judas can settle his fathers depth,
I who do not speak rubbish, do not publish a bundle of lies....
Poetry by Catacomb Villain
Read 787 times
Written on 2006-12-20 at 19:18
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