Macabre Heart

Is it beating,

Or just the wind

Coming through?

What wills the flame

To twist and bend?

To begin and end

The low, pulsing roar

Of ravenous slaughter

This pungent stench

Putrid and sweet,

Sticky, dark, and red all over.

I can taste it..

Memories etched in every drop

And splatter.

Of pain, of you,

Distraught.

Being,

Strewn upon the cold, hard, ground.

Like fresh crops upon the world over.

If only t'were my chest,

You varnished and vanished,

I wish it could have been me!

That cut you open and saw the beauty

Rising and falling beneath your breast.

O' that salacious grave of ravaged marrow

Holds even in eternal respite a comeliness

I fear will haunt my inclination long after

Your tears and torn cheers wash away.

They took what fertile dreams

Pierced my anima,

Yet gave my animal more than your

Human subsistence would ever

Give rise.

YES!

I have seen the Deus Ex Machina!

Ace, in every regard and seam.

The ribs, the collarbone, the thighs, the carotid, the teeth, the eyes, the heart, the ankles, and

THE BLOOD on my hands.

I am no savior, no avenger, no defender.

I am

Monster, devil, beast, creature, savage, brute, a lout that you scorn and detest.

Who carries my own behest within

Goodness and sin.

That

I am

I am that,

A primordial man, a demon, whatever you'd like to say.

But there's no shame in this game and playing with pain

Is who

I am