Silhouettes Janus-faced

Further along

the light of a shadow

I've never met.

Vapors from yonder of

tinted windows, break

as if

the air's heavier than

their sand

shifting between

my fingers

as I burn...

And from desert's crucial

point of deep in row,

a Cross is sure to follow.

But for not

is good for only

show and muster

and beyond,

nevertheless regardless

a surrender

made of glass and

ashes

welcomes me,

as they pass

through a hole,

a thousand times the same

area of a thumbprint on a

priceless pinhead of the

same taste as one

original sinner

that dared to say

His name.

And fortuitous,

are the fruits

examples of abyss,

of flesh and marrow.

This becomes,

 nothing yet

another

game rotten to the core.

And forever, exhumates

the principle

it's broken

for it's nothing but its

Dark desire, the definite Death.

A passion to perdure

the Blade

for the Dragon to begin

to carve

My Name.