Lamp Of Thoth The House
This is, the house of Doom,
Your death, will be coming soon,
That thought dead, Comes out to play,
A grave (very grave) holiday
Come with me, and then you will see,
The price of, immortality
This is, the mansion of death
The boulevard, of all regret
A timeless coughing of zeitgeist,
Where the spirit of an age, lies
Who's that who creeps up the stairway behind you?
Is it the ghost of love affairs lost?
A grey evil Eros with bow love barbed arrows
Claiming revenge for hopes you have crushed?
All hail the master geometric eccentric
Carving the paths that we ghosts must walk
And easing the intersex in concrete genitalia
To house fluids in marble and spirit in dust
This is, the house of doom - The only ghosts (really)
Are the one who came with you
So name your evils, pantheonize
Your gods, your martyrs graceless - Fallen, despised.
When you despair of the toads that salute you
And abhorrently drink of their bile and their greed
Decide in your wisdom that hopping is more fun
Do walk like a man is a sign of disease.
Time to update thee with spiritual software
And destroy the virus that plagues for your side
Enter the house son whose walls are of fire
whose hellish foundations are burned in your mind.
My mind is a creaky corridor
Wherein a single monstrous draught
invades the gloom
Its rancid air stained with ash
And its heart beat a blackened lung
Whose ripped fissures impede the transivity
of all weary travellers
Cancerous shapes malign the air
And dirty molecules gather dust like onerous dogs
Who sate their lust to feed for war
Whilst the doors are barbed,
with hastily spun webs of...
Something obsidian...
Something crystal...
A jewelled combination of dirt and dust and deprivation
Beautifully deathly whispers dwell in far off chambers
Floating above like ships of gossamer on a rancid sea
Gently, angelic sprites mock those
who have lost their way.
