Antipope: A Tale from Christian Times

A Tale from Christian Times
(MM 12/2004)

Let the skies witness the lascivious falsities
Bred among the dove-god’s scions.
How they torture to get confessions like saints
And bruise twilight’s allure
With millennial stains.

That night the shine of the wicked moon
Unto Danu’s daughter cast her star-crossed light
And to darker gods
envious Christ
Unleashed the hounds of Lord
On hungry winds was their howls borne

From the east came the storm, the bastards’ steps closed
Blessing themselves with benedictions
With her pace they raced on the cross-road to the malediction

Driven by carnal lust so shunned,
to please devotional inner frictions,
as cursed she laid on the hands of God,
like in necrophilious day-dream offered up.

Death for my dark-eyed moonchild they swore
For her beauty and craft defiled the lord’s law.

In my eyes was the hell’s courtyard,
spattered with her blood,
the ruby wine from my love.
Immaculate red snow, compared to Christ.
Like innocence torn and raped upon this torture floor.

Under pain and flame I saw,
the carnivore god and his servants glutton her.
In this devotional bondage, no words to cut the scourge.
Like they could cum by their eyes the priests adored.

For this insolence before the next dawn I swore,
the Christendom in flames they’ll see.

I wept the tiers thousand times enough to drown
The last love held for the humankind.
Bereft of bliss to die on coming morn,
necrologies in blood, scribed upon the churches door.

Amongst the olden gods was her part
The sacred woods her throne concealed.
Like fallen Lucifer denied by divine love,
I ravaged through the parish,
I hung the priest by belfry’s door

As bled all his blood and hungered for more
My tears made love to the ashes of my scorched love.

To make a world a grave-gift for my lost starlight
Whom I ever grave ‘twixt the grief and vengeful sights.