Severed from the Self

Fractured delight, the spirit bends
Still this body never breathed
Affected glimpses, behind my lonely hill of strangeled shadows
Have fled. With voiceless words attached
A stillness to which no silence can compare
Though as the crack subsides, and dies the self within
An atrocious pain rises
It writhes! It writhes with mortal pangs
And seraphs sob at Satan’s fangs, in human gore imbued
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish
Now are visions never to vanish:
Through chaos His light occurs still
Severance to thy damnation shall seem
As a blood-red fever burning
Which would cling to Thee forever
Affected beliefs, behind my lonely hill of strangeled shadows
Arise. With vicious words attached
An ode to which nothing can compare