Metropolis - Reborn (an excerpt)

I was reading the thoughts of a dead man howling at the moon
taking in the blasted landscape of his deteriorating mind
filled with Blake inspired imagery
of biblical distortions...
and wide open spaces of derelict foundations
mismatched quotations written in scrawls
scratched with a syringe-needle on open weeping sores
a world of detracted madness and bat-winged angels talon-fisted threatening
sacramental offerings to an idol heaped on the detritus that was humanity's waste
dragging their sorry stories through streets
filled with more madness still
seeking the eternal fixation with heroin certainty
soaking up the darkness that was the mantle of their existence
pupils dilated, fixated
swollen tongues and the silhouette of ruined tenements in their sorry, shrivelled souls
balloon fantasies floating across the desolation and roof tops:
a city-scape of broken teeth and rotting lives
of empty hallways filled with grunts and the foetid breath of johns
hitting the mark with sacred street whores
and crooked cops marking time with a tattoo of night sticks on broken skulls
the echoes of their cries - a symphony of the streets
where lightening quick pimps strike with cobra precision
marking their territory with the weeping madonna tears of their whores
of lights and traffic wrecks and blood stained outlines
that measure out the portion of their lives
and the timeless motions of existing in this submarine layer
coating everything with its stink and corruption
more lost souls petitioning for the right to merely survive
leaving behind fire-ball trails
but what of it!
what price is sufficient to pay the piper even once?
as a flight of fallen angels marked by the contrails across the severed lives
left in their wake fall oblivious of the oblivion they seek
ah! such a fucking joke...
archangels filled with ambivalence
suspended over the abyss
swords flaming and gathering storms amid the clamour
seeking with terrible countenance and starry glamours
spells cast and glory to the highest - and yet so afraid
what will you make of my offering then?
what figure of speech tells you of this kingdom coming
will you fall to your knees
with offerings of salutations and sacrifice?
or bear your first born upon isaac's blade?
climb jacob's ladder and wrestle the crown
from a beleaguered deity surrounded by empty congregations!
I can see more than you credit me for
for I see you for what you are
and in all your amphetamine glory and heroin syringed catatonia
I bought you body and soul
then cremated myself on the images you proffered
I sold out my integrity for a little of your salvation
then injected it into the crevices between my time and conscience
I asked for your benediction and wept oceans before your open thighs
begged for deliverance through the orgasm that swept me into the void
I left my incarcerated remains as homage to your lost cause
and sat at your feet in awe at your last supper
your scent invades my nights and I stay hard with memory of it
but fuck it all ! it's only nickels for dimes in the end...
so who then will keep vigil over all this?
hooded angels with broken wings singing their chorus lament?
walking the city holding their sacraments
silhouetted against the crime-pitted skyline
a place...
where even the junkies and street whores avoid
walking to their own pulsated rhythm
seeking solace in the reflections
from the sorrow pooling at their crucified feet...
maybe tomorrow will bring redemption
or condemnation...
where I caught glimpses of a man in mirrors a-plenty
whose words spoke havoc that split souls into shards of smoke
his touch was pandemic his disease so profound
women worshipped at his loins
seeking absolution for their shortcomings
yet, you may ask me a question and if I answer with prayer
for my cock is my conscience without whose benediction I would surely fade away...