by Nick Gisburne
In bondage to the deviant divine
We celebrate the haemorrhage, the birth
The sacred mother, opened to the spine
Releases them, the Brothers, to the earth
A doubleton, a parity of pain
They writhe within the other’s twisted form
We shed our shame and, naked, beg to drain
The liquids of our life, to feed the storm
The god of mercy cowers at the sight
Of creatures more immoral, more obscene
Than all the dark depravities of night
Monstrosities, they cross the gulf between
The Brothers are the evil and the end
And, bathed in blood, together, they descend
