Aela #2

Phantasmagorging on timelines unfurling in godgraced winds
Intoning genocides of loneliness dewlike on red lips
Awash in hallowed picts flashing in head trauma
Idol of pure light, tortured chunk of little soul boy,
And what is this, your gift?

Unsad kaleidescopicholeric gunfire,
Unclean beauties claw, wretched, towards holiness,
Pretty palid hands smear blood on God’s clouds,
In the cave of the march between dying and death,
Sadnesses reincarnate as he wakes and says:

Make Joseph’s coat now a bleeding sky,
Put your unfailing spear through my head,
Ignite the stars' glittery holocaust fires,
And the yawning maw of apathy take me!