Better to Reign in Hell

Heart in hand passed through the clasp of pain

In dark lowland that set bad blood in veins

Burning, like penal fires roused to strain

The jagged-toothed skyline braced with crosses

The golden dawn

Lay lost to mist where

Emboldened thorns

Made their bed with toppled stones

He closed His eyes

Sunken to dream there

Of crow-black skies

And a great white empty throne

Horror stalked the bilious fogs

That balked his visions

He licked the spittle from the cheeks of the wry

And drifted back to when His stung its target

The sneer of Michael on a glorious high

Of angel dust and Virtue by his side

Better to Reign in Hell

Drowning in the past

That downfall seemed like yesterday

Though blurred moons passed

As enemies in high places laughed

Moved to mirrors cracked with heavy lines

He rose snowblind, through shifting sands of time

Erased the trace and taste of bitter wines

The grapes of wrath grew fat on the vine

She came to Him

A little whip of tantrums

Thrashed on velvet skins

That lines Her wishbone Henge

Her name was Sin

A warming spurt of mantras

Splashed on occult tongues

That whispered sweet revenge

For the shame of their crawl from grace

Cold and hollow as the grave

And for a rape and ruinous scourge

Spared for souls that shared God's worship

For now their throats coated notes with dirge

That poured from parapets to the pits below

Drowning in the past

A wretched scream like yesterday

Died at last

With the rising of the revenant dark

All sharpened claws and blunt discharge

I shall bow no more to the dogs of the Lord

Tearing at my carcass heart

I shall fall to my knees only at the keyholes

Of Virtue slipping into bondage masks

Better to reign in hell

And with new wings

Unfurled and spoken

He took to things

That would desecrate the world

The seduction of both woman and man

For a bastard masterplan

Drowning out the past

Fool Fates unwound cruel yesterdays

Beneath the stars

That staggered from the blast