Wednesday, September 21, 2011

The Font of Phlegethon

Tongue in cheek
They trod the trail
The led upon the path of old
When the world was thin
and the air was frail
And all was lost
To the thing so bold
That dared to rise
With the wondering eyes
And call upon names
That should never be named
And the world grew still
And all life grew ill
And the waste of the world
and its treasures now gone
Quivered and shuttered
With the scream of the wronged
And when the ice broke free
And the waters broke forth
And the gaping void
Was all to be seen
Then the crackling fire
And then the light of desire
And rising the phoenix
With plumes of gold
Shrouded in light
Burning from old
Bound about the world
Its feathery embrace
And screamed in pain
As immolation was tast'd
And then there was fire
Oh, there was fire
Encasing, embracing, enchanting
fire
And the land was burnt
And cinders flew
And ash was tasted
By the mouths of the faithful
Who dared to drink
Of the font of Phlegethon
And feel the rising
of the passions of Eros
Gurgling as blood
Rising as bile
Stronger than the Nile
Wider than their pain
Overwhelming their senses
But the goblet is deep
Much deeper than a man
And those who dare drink
Of this font of Phlegethon
Are doomed to drown
In it's fiery embrace
And doomed to burn
To burn with cold hatred
To taste the ashes
More sorrowful than death
To feel the breaking
The breaking of their soul
And when Phlegethon has risen
And its waters have grown deep
The baptism of the damned
Begins with the beat
The beat of the drum
Of the broken hearted
The beat of the trodding
Upon the path
Called redemptionless
No Lethe to sleep and forget
No Mnemosyne and regret
No Acheron pours full in force
The pain of a thousand souls in its course
For the font of Phlegethon is deeper still
Darker than the night
Sweeter than rue
As fragrant as a corpse
With irony glued
Together piecemail and rough
A phantom to walk
And feed on the lost
For here in Hell there is much to fear
The wicked deceivers
The red handed killers
Those who would be a false friend
Those who make this a darker end
But then there are those more feared than Death
the dark master who brings all rest
They are those who are drunk on the damned font
Those who have tasted and hungered and hunt
Those who have gone through the flame of desire
Those who have gone through the pain of the pyre
Those who have traded their left eyes for vision
Those who have eaten the fruit of derision
Those who have no more love in their soul
For their soul has been traded for the burning coal
Taken from the hearth of that flaming band
Taken from Phlegethon's burning hand
Do not speak to them when they are found
Do not near them wherever they be bound
Do not look into their darkened eyes
Do not stop to say your goodbyes
For the beasts are loose upon the world
Their flaming tongues now uncurled
And they will not spare you
They will not even think
And when they kill you
They won't even blink
Flee from the flames
Before they reach you
For soon comes the day
When you will drink too





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