Age of Cult

Age of Cult

In yonder years the skulls jawed on to settle facts,
A comfortable time suiting dispositions
Naive of ghostly abattoir’s axe.
Aloof to creeping diseases of faith,
Asleep to tactile omens of transition,
Along the roadside, tired minds with morals lax
Lick whoredom’s rotten hand as the taste
Of the Age of Arguments final case.

In desiccating shifts of the coming stewards,
The child passed through fires of the cathode ray,
And out come Argus-eyed the newer
With thousand spectrum’d doors of gazing flesh;
The skin of reasonable demonstrations flayed,
The punctured oozing orb of the mind’s eye skewered
By the staccato thrusts of screen’s thresh
As the marching static engraves its etch.

Broadcasting canons in the darkest age inscribe
Dictates of the ecclesiastic antenna
And laws of transmitted signal’s sine.
The waves carry to the proselyte’s ear
Baleful subterranean tracts of Gehenna;
A credo of ordure and malformed shambling lives
Staggering forth in flickering leers
Of a fuming eunuch’s suppressive fear.

Tangled conduits form capillaries of praise
To knit the fibers of the digital body;
An embryonic phase to incubate
Umbilical matrix’s fetus;
A woven psychic abacus of a new god
Accounts its disciples’ profits unto their fates.
The cloying young god whispers “Feed us”
And yearning acolytes answer “Eat us”

The children of fire now consumed to fuel
The explosion of the fetid Gemini birth,
Yelping hymns of dread for this new yule,
While gouging out their bowels in sacred rite.
Amidst the viscera’s placental fluid nerves,
The twins devour the Age of Sentiment’s gruel,
And growing stronger begin to fight
In the womb of Sentiment’s final night.

The burgeoning pressure on the uterine wall
Commissions pangs of omega and genesis,
Yowls of her death’s throe sound out in call
To the depths and surf of the mirrored sea
Beckoning a corpse of slime to its exodus.
Behold the headless king crosses the ocean’s sprawl,
Making waves a crimson mist of steam,
From the endless undulate of his feet.

The decollate heresiarch in search draws close
To mend his malignant abomination neck,
And declare begun the Age of Cult;
Summoning specters with seducing lore,
Deranging on cavalcades of unlawful sex,
Gestating his mitotic tentacle sworn fold,
Slither’d bulk coalesces his form,
In tendril beds the Age of Cult is born. 

In sidereal time the twins will start to crown,
Exiting the vertical eye of incursion,
Impressing neurons of new power
Into the rapt cortex of the hive mind.
Jagged sonata’s procedural recursion
Displaces constellations of the cosmic sound;
Dark juxtapositions of the signs
Create the occult order of the scribes.

Through scrolling cataracts of imagistic code
The carnal fane compiles discordant belief;
And so the masses fashion a throne
For the acephalous emperor’s reign.
Approaching fearsome the force of his sword unsheathed,
Coming to cleave a Gemini head for his own;
Constructing pillars of his domain,
And ascendant become the lord of bane.

The decision to make in time of Gemini
Is between the reaper’s scythe and the sprouting seed.
But now our days of flux harbor cries
That echo need unto the raging deep;
In primal hungering pains of bloodlust and sleep,
Tucked loosely amongst the motions of wrath and sighs,
The old gods commence to grin and seethe,
And soon the Age of Cult begins to breathe.