At_Last

But heels in boots Stomp to drums of repercussion. Drums of dead emotion. Drums of drubbing

Drums of heat Drums of theft Drums whose beat Is that of a whip.

Stretched, ill nature’s hide betrays The evil of the way Of Ignominy. Patras Sanctus Solicitations Doomed Breathless of their own vacuum.

Ever hardened, Never pardoned.

Rapt in knotty tangles Of twisted writs, Of morals mangled, Spawning snakes Of inanities

Minds of mindless mission Tend this garden of perdition Planting inhumanities.

Nights awash in squalid fume Waft of their decay and ruin,

Never grasping Heaven's hand, Ever gasping Ever damned.

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