The Gates... of Hell?

Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, February 10, 2012 Under: Rhymed Verses


The greatest trick the devil ever pulled…was the plug.



What myths to safely dismantle, to make saints and sages entranced through…
Indoctrination, locked as patrons, incarcerated, intangible -
Aboriginals embalmed by the psalms that predate them as ‘Angels or Animals’
Series of messages in bottles of tainted blood transported by Arabian canticles
Based upon the same Pagan vernacular that Satan’s draped in a sacred pentagonal
But in actuality, we’re cavemen who lack fuel unable to gauge the exact tools
That made us aghast fools; so we scapegoat the demons of the ancient and taboo
Past participle theologicians wasting away in an age where the past rules
Barely above water in a lake of invented flames, faces gray as the Nazgûl
As the princes of darkness, Persia and Diana herself all bathe in a black pool
We wake adjacent to vast tombs and feel the attraction diminish
Of belonging to an occult following… the same knight’s templar paladin gimmick
The inauguration of the holy spirit is now - the ballot is finished
I’m not a man who can stomach the hideous deeds that his clan has committed
Yet I see the backlash from Lucifer’s fall from grace, “such a tragedy, innit?”
But Man is a menace, a possum with a brain lost in the consulates of pain
If humanity’s this organic experiment gone wrong someone’s gotta be to blame
I could write apocrypha novels about apostles reaching fame, marked with such disdain
That they appeared as darkly armored gargoyles marching in frosty particles of rain
Fortune favors the brave, specifically fallen angels with the knack to rebel
Or the Moroccan traveler on horseback who slyly navigates his way back into Hell
Thieves of immaculate wealth long encountered shrines of idle minded women
The signs that times had risen, and mile high club Christians tried the bible’s wisdom
Defied the omniscient one, exiled, gifted, only to preside over an entire private kingdom
“We reap what we sow, and my-my, this apple of Eden cider cyanide is quite delicious”
Wandering souls arrive at the River Styx’s intersection, ask for repentance
From the damned and the mystic semantics in linguistics; anagrams in religion
How far you travel south and the geologic balance of brimstone is a matter of physics
And the pattern of the masks with the imprint of the Merovingian, sadly diminished
Dead sea scrolls happening to be missing a few miraculous tidbits… get this,
“Should I knock or break in,” asks a carpenter, a murderer, a bastard, a haggard Pisces
He never thought he’d be invited into the underworld simply for asking nicely -
Surprised, couldn’t manage understandable sentences, a phantom Leviticus
“You may never leave, but the position of gatekeeper is available if interested…”
Yes... I do need a steady job...

In : Rhymed Verses 



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