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Dwarfs Perdition (Eldritch & Eerie Poetry)

In all of Seventh Hell, a morbid hyper

-natural habitat, human remnants

dwell with sluggish flora,

sharing one another’s elements in sub-animal

thought and activity-: with gull and boldness

in a single heap of an anomalous horticulture

of turpitude, and iniquities.

All elements being ennui: forked with ears, and tongues,

Noses, thews, sways and boles; to an onlooker

this world could be thaumaturgy, for

its wondrous weirdness, past redemption.

Inside this pocketed loamy uninterred furrow,

in its oubliettes, satan like dwarfs do

their grafting of plant and corpse and even

dwell human organisms, assembling

fetus parts-sanguine-found in graves, bought

at practicums, clinics; suture one to a different,

amid repugnant odors, and ordure.

Deep in Seventh Hell, deep in its arcane

grotto, resides the Syrinx-the genii

of all of it, as soon as a river-nymph, became

a reed, and the reed into items of

lowering lengths, fixed along with wax,

her pores and skin incrustation of bark, her enamel

erudite and spiked, forked. Reptilian tongue.

Head like a fairy, wings like a bat-

seducer of the dwarfs, who suck the

yellowish-red Ichor-as if from the

previous ones, the Titans, cursed into the vegetation,

taken out by forming incisions,

into human torsos or stems of a harsh wound!

Beneath this loamy pocket of earth the

demon dwarf lair in ennui, await the

new and immense emergence of the floor’s

new diabolical age. The age of

seethed worry, pandemonium, of debauch

menaces, now not halcyon, inimical

their hair tresses, simply ready, ready… to

enter the floor, ready ten-thousand

years. Their dwarf demonic eyes spin in orbits

of stooped pleasures to be, nonetheless ennui from

this halt, their muscle mass tangled up from the stoop

inside their lair; but all with demoniac steadfastness.

So, on they wait, the ultimate lengthy evening, the

final hour, halfway between cobra-like activation,

and a door closed behind them to pull in

humanity’s muffled tribulation.

Arms hanging like apes, per close to touching the

floor, ready for man to bitter with God and

for God’s final wielding break, with humanity

as it’s, thus, they’re prepared for his or her

victims. Those who’ve cursed God’s will,

closed hearted, detached to man,

but burden themselves with cats and canine

and maintain no feelings for his or her neighbors:

mongrels and mutts amongst males; for politicians

they’ve the rusty coffin-hinge, prepared.

“They will fall just like the falling of the gargoyles

from a cathedral” whispers the chief dwarf

fiend, to the incrustation barked Syrinx,

who will information the dwarfs out of the fleapit

out of Seventh Hell’s loam, for earth’s doom.

And now she screams: “We come, we include

our heated, and frenzied breath of crimson

hell,- out of our hell-born labyrinth!”

No longer bored, hesitated, or uncertain.

To slay or be slain, with waxing warmth, rising!

An arboreal masquerade, of flesh and stem:

of demon and mythological goddess.

Human scions hid behind leafage, mantles.

They change shapes like prompt deliriums.

The Syrinx’s Un-decorous Demise

The Syrinx, with squandering horror to spill

upon the human race, her repulsive

hate to all of mankind’s lot, she threatened

the world that might hear, her merciless with

exigency, to take the satan’s pledge

of the mark of 666 (the mark of

he Beast, and Satan being that very

metamorphoses, -like to the Syrinx’s

transubstantiation, or transgenic… )

save, must you not, solely to be fated

by and by, to a hopeless life, and lack.

And she constructed for herself a ghoul-god temple.

In an idle saunter, she paced its marble

stone flooring, held her rituals and worship: and

thus got here the priesthood of dwarf-fiends whom

had launched a lot gloom to mankind in

her title: the supplier of provender of the

Titan gods, of way back. Yet she too

was an impersonal power akin to the

components, of the supernatural, cosmos;

thereby, topic to darkish ebon ambiguities.

No one knew the style of her evaporation;

feasibly her demise, her execution-

Perchance, delivered to an excellent decrease order

of subterranean earth-entities,

by Satan for her temple blasphemies. And

thus fed, and lived, with the devourers lifeless.

It just isn’t merely heresy, however true, not a mere

hieratic figment, that after you be part of Satan’s

lot, he desires to rivals, and therefore, the furious

Syrinx, should have forgotten, was disavowed

with satanic pious reprobation, by Lucifer.

She had shaped no acutely aware plan, to make

haste however dared to reconnoiter its restraints

for need of habituated worship and fame.

#5250/ 5-26 & 27-2016

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