Backwoods Delirium

Hang yourself from that family tree, cut it down build a coffin for you and me. I ain’t got time for that threshin’ floor.  Not the first time I’ve felt the inside of a warm body cavity and understood. Stretch the flesh, and visions told. Prophesies rot within bleached skulls. The sun knows no mercy for its decimation.  I ain’t got time for that threshin’ floor. Drag my belly across that killin’ floor, Welcome lil’ girl this slow death we call life.                                                             
Well the fiend’s they cometh from deep within the woods.  Filth, filth… divine visions. We’re ganna Bleed upon clover. Consumed by Clouded thoughts, numb tongued with a haunted stare. Moonstruck, finger tips meet broken flesh. Survival, it is a killer. We got Graves without faces and we’re cursed to wander as the sun burns a hole in the sky... Carve me a smile,we got  Bones in a pile. What we do in them woods is holy.  O’ it feels so good to be washed from sin, that blood of lamb tastes divine. My sweet sweet lord, he’s up above. 
It’s a nightmare made flesh kinda’ Sunday.   Gatta’ love that velvety God flesh in your mouth.  ...And her womb spews forth blasphemy, and her lips uttered deceit.  Black alter. The trail of dead ends at your doorstep, the stream of blood rests at your feet.

Copyright © Pauly Plaster J.R. | Year Posted 2014

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