Fever Dreams and Black Moonbeams
What are these creatures flapping into vision?
To what black purpose do they fly anon?
Talons sharpened, brandished with precision,
Screeching voices bringing me undone!
What strange vault flew open to release them?
Here, into this red-walled citadel,
What brave words would possibly decrease them?
And allay the blackness of their spell.
Milky white the damsel strewn prostrated,
Poised in drug-soaked dreams and sad dismay,
Twisting in a torment unabated,
The victim of a fallen, debauched way.
For the souls of men and women falter,
When to Christ they go and do not yield,
Fate arrives with chains that rarely alter,
Placing them in hell, in darkness sealed.
Occult signs stamped on the very spirit,
Spells to put the destiny in bonds,
Chasms dank to gradually dispirit,
Hatred grafted in with waving wands.
Woeful is the craven night that lingers,
On display — the deviltry of hell!
Sacrifices made by skillful fingers,
Cults in chorus like a chiming knell.
Now we see the ambit of our downfall,
People dancing to a deadly drum,
Lost from Christ in Satan’s weary catch call,
Lost in depths that prayers to God can’t plumb.
Children of the night in flapping fever,
Crazed withal to know the taste of blood,
Bested by the devil, the deceiver,
Washed away — sad jetsam in the flood.
ADL
adamdaniel 