Do what thou wilt the devil spout
Feel like a wicked masquerade
Ceremonies of a wicked heart
Families torn apart
The mortal remains of incubi
And succubi creep into sin.
A moonlit vista dominates
Notice the foggy mist
A briar-field steeped in thorns
No respite, no grassy dawns in sight,
Nietzsche, the Gnostic saint, sighs:
Throughout a nightmare in three acts:
A large private house, blacked-out
Windows, distorting views.
Disorientated, he claims to be
A workman, claims to be you.
Strapped in a dentist's chair
Nobody there. Disguise, pullout
His eyes. Nowhere to hide...
A ritual sacrifice
On an improvised stage: an upturned
Child’s cot. Jesus saves.
Next door, evisceration is being endured
In silence. The ghouls are not to be
Trusted. A Health Spa dedicated
To the worship of the body. All the staff
In sparkly clean white uniforms with
Faint splatters of blood..
Nobody knows about this but me.
I recognize voices
I try to flee. See!
Being injected again
World without end.