Reading 22 - The Prince of All Darkness
The Prince of All Darkness
Before I became known to this cold and craven world
as the Prince of All Darkness,
Long before I had been knighted with a burning sword
through the heart
to pierce me forevermore,
I was a fair blown boy of flight and feathers,
Mild and meandering,
Wandering the globe
in search of long lost rhymes and deep buried treasures,
Astonished and amazed,
Dazzled by the fountains of exotic light
Colouring the contours of my shy skimming soul.
To the tune of this light and lilting world,
I too strolled with loosened limbs,
And danced fearless and free to a faint underground rhythm.
And in those earlier days of innocence,
When I still believed in beauty,
I too had many gentle experiences,
Far removed from the poverty and unwashed stench of dishwasher girls,
Torn with ragged hair and blistered hands,
No prince charming in buckle sworded finery would ever care to see.
But now my face has paled and thinned,
With angles more acute,
And eyes more intense;
Now my hair has darkened,
My body slimmed,
My blood cooled.
Now I lie defiled,
My simpering sack split wide,
Oh! Float me on malicious ponds!
Exhibit me in naked cages!
I am your slave,
The Prince of All Darkness,
Stuffed and sated, snivelling, degraded,
The mauler and the mauled,
The hooker and the hooked,
My stains on your plate!
Your lash on my back!
Felt again and again! Oh! and again!
This sordid state!
This pitiless wall!
This jerking humiliation!
Make me lick my own sperm,
I will, I am your whore,
Warped and wretched, cold blooded and traitorous, all the perversions embraced;
The Prince of All Darkness, stripped in a dark alley and whipped without mercy,
I cry, I die, I feel the kiss of the King Cobra;
Here I am; cleaved from humanity,
Impaled on my raft of panting degeneracy.
I journey to the leering-lurching palace of the ruling ice queen,
And on this religious road, cess-pit deals are made in sick and slime,
In dustbins, in lavatories, in the rat factories of disease,
Suffering the lace and lice of wretched specimens,
Whose hands are shaking,
Whose minds are lost,
Whose eyes no longer see,
Now at the mercy of the suave bully boys,
Out to rip me,
Sell me rat poison,
Rape me, Slash me,
Leave me broken-armed and haemorrhaging.
These dead-head death-roach deals,
All for the silver studded need entering my vein,
All for the numb cocktail of a brain,
All for the time lying spent in my own shit and shame,
Every grim muscle knotted in pain,
A carcass in a dungeon,
Dimly waiting for the end,
Wounded animal sounds, raw
Ripped and torn, dragged from my throat,
Bleeding, spasming, thrashing about,
In convulsions,
Out of all reason,
My mind blown apart,
My stomach punctured and leaking.
To the Wells of Hell have I travelled,
Since those earlier days of innocence,
When we sat my friends and I,
The eternal youth, fancy as can be,
Swapped shirts and drank a little wine,
Intoxicated with ourselves and our crime,
Or played knockabout football on the tennis court yard at school,
All beauty and bounce,
Too true to break the rules,
Or sat crouched beneath the little spire bridge,
Listening to the cold winter stream,
Amazed by the patterns of moonbeams,
Running on icicles rum and black.
One such rose filled night,
A fellow scholar guided me home,
Beneath a lost cherry-moon,
Dark on the lower side of town,
He gently pulled my raw shirt down.
Overwhelmed I turned and trembled,
Pinning that boy’s bare arms against his fierce-fine chest,
Feeling his leg hard against mine,
Then; even as our tentative lips in wonder kissed,
Even as the last pale ghost of childhood, flickered - sighed,
I felt that cross-bow bolt shatter my skull,
I felt stones cast from the righteous mob,
Splatter my rich and tender skin to bloody pulp,
I felt the everlasting wrath of humanity,
Their bowl of poison for me alltimes,
Puked into a cauldron of boiling oil,
Hung, drawn and quartered,
Repeatedly fucked,
A halcyon hell for the Prince of All Darkness.
Before I became known to this cold and craven world
as the Prince of All Darkness,
Long before I had been knighted with a burning sword
through the heart
to pierce me forevermore,
I was a fair blown boy of flight and feathers,
Mild and meandering,
Wandering the globe
in search of long lost rhymes and deep buried treasures,
Astonished and amazed,
Dazzled by the fountains of exotic light
Colouring the contours of my shy skimming soul.
To the tune of this light and lilting world,
I too strolled with loosened limbs,
And danced fearless and free to a faint underground rhythm.
And in those earlier days of innocence,
When I still believed in beauty,
I too had many gentle experiences,
Far removed from the poverty and unwashed stench of dishwasher girls,
Torn with ragged hair and blistered hands,
No prince charming in buckle sworded finery would ever care to see.
But now my face has paled and thinned,
With angles more acute,
And eyes more intense;
Now my hair has darkened,
My body slimmed,
My blood cooled.
Now I lie defiled,
My simpering sack split wide,
Oh! Float me on malicious ponds!
Exhibit me in naked cages!
I am your slave,
The Prince of All Darkness,
Stuffed and sated, snivelling, degraded,
The mauler and the mauled,
The hooker and the hooked,
My stains on your plate!
Your lash on my back!
Felt again and again! Oh! and again!
This sordid state!
This pitiless wall!
This jerking humiliation!
Make me lick my own sperm,
I will, I am your whore,
Warped and wretched, cold blooded and traitorous, all the perversions embraced;
The Prince of All Darkness, stripped in a dark alley and whipped without mercy,
I cry, I die, I feel the kiss of the King Cobra;
Here I am; cleaved from humanity,
Impaled on my raft of panting degeneracy.
I journey to the leering-lurching palace of the ruling ice queen,
And on this religious road, cess-pit deals are made in sick and slime,
In dustbins, in lavatories, in the rat factories of disease,
Suffering the lace and lice of wretched specimens,
Whose hands are shaking,
Whose minds are lost,
Whose eyes no longer see,
Now at the mercy of the suave bully boys,
Out to rip me,
Sell me rat poison,
Rape me, Slash me,
Leave me broken-armed and haemorrhaging.
These dead-head death-roach deals,
All for the silver studded need entering my vein,
All for the numb cocktail of a brain,
All for the time lying spent in my own shit and shame,
Every grim muscle knotted in pain,
A carcass in a dungeon,
Dimly waiting for the end,
Wounded animal sounds, raw
Ripped and torn, dragged from my throat,
Bleeding, spasming, thrashing about,
In convulsions,
Out of all reason,
My mind blown apart,
My stomach punctured and leaking.
To the Wells of Hell have I travelled,
Since those earlier days of innocence,
When we sat my friends and I,
The eternal youth, fancy as can be,
Swapped shirts and drank a little wine,
Intoxicated with ourselves and our crime,
Or played knockabout football on the tennis court yard at school,
All beauty and bounce,
Too true to break the rules,
Or sat crouched beneath the little spire bridge,
Listening to the cold winter stream,
Amazed by the patterns of moonbeams,
Running on icicles rum and black.
One such rose filled night,
A fellow scholar guided me home,
Beneath a lost cherry-moon,
Dark on the lower side of town,
He gently pulled my raw shirt down.
Overwhelmed I turned and trembled,
Pinning that boy’s bare arms against his fierce-fine chest,
Feeling his leg hard against mine,
Then; even as our tentative lips in wonder kissed,
Even as the last pale ghost of childhood, flickered - sighed,
I felt that cross-bow bolt shatter my skull,
I felt stones cast from the righteous mob,
Splatter my rich and tender skin to bloody pulp,
I felt the everlasting wrath of humanity,
Their bowl of poison for me alltimes,
Puked into a cauldron of boiling oil,
Hung, drawn and quartered,
Repeatedly fucked,
A halcyon hell for the Prince of All Darkness.
