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King of Kings: 1-90

1	A plume of dirt and grime envelops sky;
		The hellish slug of gas does creep along.
		It casts an orb three hundred stories high
		Over the Sun and ends his morning song.
		The birds and trees now stand a silent throng,
		Before this rumbling mass with lightning veins,
		Announcing from its depths un-living Wrong.
		The cloud unveils from its ashen rains,
	A haunted prow so steered by sinewed mains. 

2	Behold! A rotted snout in shattered disrepair,
		Reluctant nose of mad, titanic head,
		Emerging from primordial earthen air,
		The Lizard King returning, dripping red.
		That oily blood His putrid skin does shed
		Out from the seams ‘tween rotted flesh and flags
		That iron wired stitches weakly wed,
		An undead Rex in form with skin that sags
	From conquered kingly flesh and bannered rags. 

3	Revolting stench. It wilts the grassy blades
		As He does near, the fields bowing low
		Before this Beast in sickly browning shades
		He leaves behind a wake that Death did mow
		And only offers wretched blood to sow
		Those massive drips of blood in rhythmic beat
		Do form dark ruby ponds so far below
		But kingly blood alone the ground does meet
	This monster floats in air, no legs or feet.  

4	Above the Rex’s form, a massive wing:
		A host of silver zepplins bred for war;
		They bear upon their sides a scripted ring
		of “DEUS EX MACHINA!” circling core;
		On this he hangs suspended from the floor. 
		Supported by three slabs of giant stone
		His body seeping t’ward the dying moor
		Devoid of proper structure, missing bone
	The makeshift monster slowly glides alone. 

5	Protruding ‘long his back in lumpen form
		Stand satellite receivers, glossy white
		The china saucers cut through ashen storm
		And throw back to the sun his hated light
		They crave instead the call from Endless Night
		Eternal Acheron, the void of space
		Where floats the Ferryman in powered kite
		They hear his oar disturb as he does race
	Across that sea which life and death encase. 

6	His vessel only seen among the dark
		Imposter laid amidst the noble stars
		Revealed by its constant moving mark
		For Charon never sleeps, each night he mares
		An undisturbéd sky he always bars
		That Beast, he makes it so from constant blight
		Upon the land, his stooges, kings and czars
		They gladly do his bidding claiming right
	To speak for God through horrid death and might. 

7	The fools, their eyes so blind to monstrous ploy
		Mind not for what the King of Kings commands
		Who seeks all life outside him to destroy
		He only satisfied in wasted lands
		His subjects there he lovingly remands
		The forests felled, the creatures turned to slaves
		To serve the Great Machin’ry’s many hands
		The kings and serfs alike would claim He saves
	They freed from States of Nature and the Caves. 

8	“How good this world be!” They do exclaim.
		“My every need be eas’ly met
		No fear of violent death that horrid game
		I gladly place myself in Rex’s debt
		My loyalty upon his feet I set
		To vow upon my life to fight for him
		His en’mies hated blood I vow to let
		Upon the floor, in crimson baths I’ll swim
	Eternal servant be, it glad or grim.” 

9	Recited by the Monster’s brood this theme 
		Those men and women housed in flesh are plugged
		Into that ghastly Monster’s crimson stream.
		His blood they sup, in ecstasy they’re drugged;
		So tethered they remain, this tubing lugged.
		A bloody feed injected at the spine
		It weighing down their necks, the shoulders shrugged
		embedded by a vice of angled spikes, this line. 
	They mind it not, so drowned in pleasure fine. 

10 	This gift, the beasts convincing drapery
		that hides a sickly bride ‘neath ‘lectric veil
		Displaying text, it reads “SOCIETY”
		It crawling left and leading lettered tail
		Across that glowing screen with reddish hale
		But disappearing at the Western seam
		Returning only at the Eastern rail
		This scrolling pendulum’s hypnotic stream
	So grips our sated eyes in pleasant dream.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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