Dark Dweller (part1)
Emergence into Emergency
I know my Dweller, he sure is dark
We share a cave where life is stark
He masquerades as a “holy man”
A Saint in a lonely caravan.
Surrounded by his books of Magick
Another wanker profoundly tragic.
Awake I breath toxic air in deep
Masturbating in my sleep
I contemplate a drop of blood
Carving sigils into wood
I spin this wheel of life again
Another year of joy and pain
A daemon reborn on Earth
Not consigned to a fiery Hell
Yet what pray is the difference?
Prey, can you tell?