Inspirations: Painting by Bader Shehab

Lazarus is asleep,
no awakening – no weep.
Only a false prophet,
and the evening’s chef,
a performance upon a table
where we feast.

There is an awakening,
there is a beast,
not one of valor,
but one of wrath.
Havoc meets the eye;
flood and fire – worship you,
their names on your blood,
their frames on your walls;
it runs deep.

Drain the lamb,
the blood it seep.
All their dead names,
before your fire.
Tattoo the embers
onto your skin,
no God
will hear their cries,
beyond this smoke and inferno.

No God,
will hear their cries,
beyond this smoke and inferno.

No God,
will hear their cries,
beyond this smoke and inferno.
Sixteen fires onto their lungs,
thunderstorm of breath
condensing into a fog
they are trying to outrun,
bloody swords – unsheathed,
wings and teeth – unleashed…

Not the red iron
masking their faces,
nor the preaching hands
to the heavens above –
will save them from what is to come.
No man or woman,
will walk this Earth
bound to a will or faith
shall be heard in their cries.
Wrath of the beast,
battle of Nazareth
tarnished onto the soil.
No pillar or prayer,
no destiny or journey –
save you from his wrath.
The streets shall flow
with the bloods of the nonbelievers.
The rivers shall flood
with the bloods of the nonbelievers.

No God,
will hear your cries,
beyond this smoke inferno.
Tired hands – burned to the marrow,
await your fate; path to the light is narrow.
The symbols frigid in your wake,
because it’s a false monk – false prophet – false books – false disciple – false God – false angel…
But, you can always shoot your guts out with a shotgun.

“This meat tastes… nervous and scared, rough. As if it was…” Hannibal examines. “Being chased?” Will interrupts.

 

The Great Red Dragon by William Blake

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