I am all of us, amorphous, in the history of flesh; forever at war with this beast aging within us; ancient, nameless. It's face is this mirror which reflects my own disguise. Revenant. I awaited your return. And now, night after night, I lay in your bed drifting through darkness. I close my eyes... Do I know where I am? Do I know who I am? I am...
Sexless, depraved broken by sentiment, Your hands discreetly disclosing libertinage.
Merciless, dehumanized; wanton presentiment, Your hands meticulously chronicle this debauchery.
Meadows blackened, broken by anodyne, Your hands discarding this black rhetoric.
Revenant incipience; bewildered talisman, Your hands disputing this ancient precedent.
Virginal whiteness; salacious antithesis, Your mouth agape drinking from this chalice.
Acolyte, proselyte; servant of genuflection, Your hands fervently conducting this enterprise.
Overture, aria; conduit of alacrity, Your mouth agape reciting these ethics.
Prophetic injustice; awaiting penance, Your hands discarding this insipid reverence.
Mirthful ignorance; asprinting towards nothingness, Polymorphous within this diurnal resistance.
Virulent enmity; godless animality, Your hands grasping garishly towards endlessness.