Valley of Death

1.

Have you ever fathomed the crimson locusts smite;

have you ever longed the vermin host your bodied grandeur;

regretting deeds bid not as steadfast might.

Pushing to the limit, alas – forfeit the light:

Hath you seen death smirk at lions rotten cur?

For how could the proud of heart this endure.

To see the Valley of Death and its endless night…

2.

How the mighty have fallen and crumbled its golden worth;

how the haughty bedazzled, covered in ash and sullen.

What was in East is in West; the south has turned to north;

nobody a stout heart for his brethren shows forth.

Skrewing each-others throats with keys of allen.

Christian, pagan alike have from greeded madness befallen:

Weeping gilded tears of jest on the funeral of a scarf...

3.

Who shall lead the meek to yorktown – is it iron or lead?

Who shall adamantly follow the cross and harbor its shine;

the men are withered away like on a hot furnace the watery bead;

whipped are the sins of old but not forgotten in the shed.

Is the Christian really of Holy Spirits vehemant shrine?

Is the vision blurry of spiritus loki or truly Divine!

I saw how even the devil that scaffolded fray in abandon fled…

4.

“Oh, death hath mercy on me for I am ready for thy kiss, behold!”

but death gazed back smirking with taunting my valor.

“I see you fallen; and broken is your hold;

oh dear, the spine with lungs hath made a ghastly discord;

the liver lunged the kidney from the side like tailors;

the gut is spilling jackpots and other entrailers…

but not just yet, your time is not at hand!” she put a finger on my lips to scold!

5.

I saw the devil in disguise like a runaway from Mayhem –

he tried to lift a stone and bury himself deep to be forgot.

I didn't know what malice that despair in him insited may have;

was it a stalwart army dreadful to behold or an iron maiden?

He shouted: “Its not mine, its not mine – I don't know what begot?”

I thought of madness – how can this be the devil or not.

And I saw how vulturous tendrils sliver out of a nearby den…

6.

What ever touched their tentacled gnawing slivered stench,

was cut aside whilst musted to enveloped mush.

It was so fast the stone from hidings spot got wrenched;

like limb from limb that man got gruesome henched!

“This must be love!” I sighed in grim tune on this corpses crush,

a shadow oozed out from the tendrils without a rush.

I guess its appetite was quite not well there quenched…

7.

“What is a man, but awful parody of God?” the shadow spout

“What are his deeds, but glimmer in the endless stream of time!”

I didn't know what was this charade all good about.

“Reveal thy name and standard, or be gone!” I pulled out a shout.

“Aw, who am I, that is not up a challenge thine;

just call me Oblivion and let all your sorrows be mine!

Forget the path and sake your own desired shroud!”

8.

“You art not God, I stand and fall with Him don't mock my glee;

I will not bow nor forsake the cross and tremble!

What is of boon this temptations futile offer to thee;

suggesting that I'd rather rant a youthful joyous spree?”

“Aw, so this is Christian the Bold – or better known as Humble!”

The ravines gourged open and bellowed its laughters rumble.

And there was a sprout of vine what became a tree…

9.

“The tree of good and evil wont you taste of it?”

the shadow offered me the fruit and I felt my hunger.

Resenting weakness I waved my hands: “Woe, shite!

For those who ventured far beyond that offer is so light!”

“Aw, so you taste greater goods and superman you monger;

Nietzsche grinched his tooth; Akutagawa is no longer,

give up thy faith and loose your hopeless fight!!”

10.

“My faith is mine to keep and hold not yours to beckon!”

The shadow growled: “Oh really, what is a man like you here doing then?”

“I hath been haughty, yes, and brash my foolish reckon;

I lack all class, my words are foul as bogged trench” – I second!

Still holding fast to hopes what may not be as idolized as Glens;

You are not right – there is yet strength in the ranks of men!”

“For how long?” the shadow sneered and was gone…

11.

“Is that all?” I shouted with resent and was angered to extent;

“Are you shooing butterflies on and around my head to battle in mock?”

“I will trespass as my heart contents, no lord shall ask me for rent!”

And I felt like a lonely encampment in the desert, an abandoned tent;

I saw the vultures and ravens gather around me swirling to one flock…

My glasses there broken and I felt like the odd kid on the block,

who doesn't know how to smoke the right way his Kent!

12.

My words smoked up my lungs and my clothes there smoking;

but it didn't feel deluxe nor delighted me in the slightest debris.

I felt like on Cryptonite, all crumbled like shards of clay braking.

How could this be of a normal dreams or nightmares making?

Someone let the dogs out; all my demons there suddenly freed;

they all had only one say: “Worship me and fulfill my Creed!”

I felt like that woman on gangbang who on the doorknob was braking…

13.

Who's side was I on; for whom did I suffered this whip;

was it for God or for King and Country or for Commonwealth?

Did I knew my worth or did I toughened too much my lip;

I really felt how my fingers there heavier as my hips.

I felt misplaced and wrongly measured, put on the markets shelth.

And all-though so radiant my light – I was so blind and cast in stealth…

I didn't remember anymore of what block was on my shoulder the chip!

14.

Whipping boys and scapegoats roamed around me puzzled and gushing:

“Is he the one who said thus!”; “How dare he be so brash and lofty?”

They had an open debate like on an important problem scientists disgussing.

“This must be Major Dis Respect!!” one shouted into the fray – “Disgusting!”

frowned the others in reply all had yokes tied on their necks to betray so crafty;

moving around like windmills motioned hands as on a point so hefty…

And I didn't like the promise what this motley befouled court was ushering!

15.

Peter was painted black and wearing a gas-mask on an ancient carpet;

he wasn't even upside down, but on Jesus stead to Kolgatha crucified.

On his left hand was instead of the zealot an ivory-bricked white market;

on the right hand immeasurable amount of Camels and Elephants parked…

Bar Kochba and Bar Abas there standing in the crowd not dead but survived;

on the walls different antlers and beasts furs had nested their hives.

“It's time to present the case and hear the witnesses!” the judge remarked…

16.

Into the pulpit came the witness first and I could not hold my chest;

it was a cherry blossom, tossed around by a gale winds torrent.

“How can you hear such witness in human tongue?!” I shouted thinking it's all in jest;

but that did not startle the shenanigan nor amused the least the rest.

“Oh no! He is death – he cannot hear!! Let his ears be drilled to repent...”

“Oh no! He is blind – he cannot see!! Let his eyes be gouged to further the incent!”

And the court resolved to do his bidding not forgetting a lest…

17.

The cherry blossom, tossed by winds spoke thus to me:

“This boy is tormented by relentless want and no bounds to yield;

he has in every darkness and light on the spirited way been.

To shelter all in one; to be enlightened is his only dream!

His mind like a mountaintop in thunderstorms yet surrounded by cornfields;

his weapons at the same time a sword, a spear and a shield.

Hear ye, hear ye – let those word reach your ears and thee!”

18.

That witness departed and there came the second par;

it was a reed and it was broken, sharpened its upper head.

He bowed to the audience with all graces and argued:

“The correctness of words has not ever been his grue –

even if he should survive the trials, he is not dead;

though hurt and battered – not for all the sides he'd bled.

For what you sow you reap and that is the sue!”

19.

In came the third, then the reed had left the building;

it was a steam-roller so big and bulky, he barely fit the pulpit.

“This is a troll, this is a troll – there's nothing to argue, not a thing!”

was all his witness and then the court rested its case and there was a sling;

but I did not despair to mar the cross in my heart – I did not loose my grit;

I felt the Holy Spirit take me over and release the all-mighty wit...

But they didn't notice that over the sound of their check-ins ca-ching.

20.

“What is the scythe on harbor's moon – a shadow in the sun?

What is the leper sinful – when turned paled, snow-white?

What is a hidden tomb to a holy man – blessedness or ruin?

What is endless bluffing more than inviting the second buy-in?

What is a false witness more – a bewitched fool or a knight?

What is taunting en masse to grant righteousness to ones sight?

What is political correctness more than the disheartened beguile?”

21.

And the court was silent, for they lacked an answer;

they started stuttering to rant pleas for mercy on me.

I felt like viewing a sickness or some form of cancer;

Not taking hostages, no booty; loot nor ransom…

I left the court behind and cut down was the evil tree;

the shadow came back and passed a look to great:

“Don't think for a second that this is it Mr. Hansom!”

22.

“Riddle me this, oh foolish one and behold;

hath someone mixed up water with fire so dreary?

To see the East as West and North as South so bold;

like one coin – but it has no price and market to be sold!

If you drinketh it as milk – which cow or dairy,

should be its deliverer – or what fucking fairy?

Can you make the evil to good like led to gold!!”