by Nick Gisburne
I violate the carcass of a queen,
A necromantic crime I must commit,
A trespass even Faust would find obscene,
A grisly resurrection, soiled and split.
Her screams are silent. Sick with every surge,
With pain I pound her primitive mystique.
Together, two convulsing magics merge,
A murderous crescendo, bloody, bleak.
It shatters through the shadows, to a slave,
Imprisoned by impenetrable dreams,
My sorcery the only way to save
The human at the heart of such extremes.
The soul, my son, knows nothing of the spell.
I take his place, descending into Hell.
