Ritual

A rotting, putrid land,

Frail as venous clay

I sever my thin mass

From Earth's devoted prey.

Hircus-tongue, seize the fire,

Beneath a graying twilight,

To deport this rank humankind,

Into a wintry, aphotic sky.

In chronic irreverence,

This sworn, malignant rite

Churned the lord's sanctum

Into a lidless night.

A spherical glow

Begot the decadent purge

Of a captive fall of lambs;

The shriek of Heaven's

Celestial dirge.

Devour the flesh of God,

Afloat the crimson sod.

The Ritual brought no repose.

For naught but smoke and mist arose;

Though consumed by dreams I saw -

Horned and hooved the wicked He Goat

His loom roared sinful in effigy;

I sank, wailed, as glottal

Words were shorn

From his tongue I, dismal, fell

With rapt fear, as though snarled by

A soulless, callous, abysmal wind.