Samael’s Psalm

In which Mary Magdalene raises Christ from Hell.

Love is poison, subtle pain
and this balm alone remains
iron bars – no lover’s lips
silence, in a hollow crypt.

Where no light can touch my form
and no scars my skin adorn
the aching skies all scream restraint
no pale flesh to play or taint.

But oh, come night, I crave release
at midnight prowls the pale beast
Leviathan with hounds shall ride
of my mount, a suicide,
and I shall take a blackened bride –
some little lemming girl.

Bruises blossom, red on white
I plucked a rose or two from night
laid them ’round his coffin bright
and she spoke softly to me:

“Prince of power, lord of hours
your sword is the hand of time
revive Christ, Satan. Spare His soul.”

I shall, but at what price?

Festering wounds on moon
last night, crater kisses
scream, I sigh –

A crescent smile, alone, am I.

The buffer betwixt death and life,
aqua vitae, dissolved Lot’s wife.
immortal cancer, spider bite
dosage makes the poison.

Lazarus! Rise from the grave
my puppets all crawl forth to play
strung with nerves, I play their skin
they bow to me, like violins

Bow and bend, my bow grates on
grateful dead, now sing my song
and you, my lemming – play along
danse macabre of those now gone.

Ring the bell, chime hour-child
by your tune the dead beguile
from the waters far and wild
crawl the bones of memory.

“I know not what to dance,” cries she
like Lilith by the Red, Red Sea
and I remember innocence
spread upon the sand.

She strings his guts amongst the sky
midnight’s jewels float softly by
night bled a bit, I suckled it
I’ll savor it come morning.

Play on shallow misery
now cloak yourself in ecstasy
let pain and bliss bind victory
to your will, necromancy.

My path shadow, razor’s edge
I push her to the brink of death
Mary’s master, yea, the space of breath
in which we waltz – mortality.

I claim my price, she takes His soul
sacrifice, to make Him whole
Christ rises from the depths of Hell,
three days enchained, now all is well.

As Christ walks golden in the sun
Mary’s flesh will rot anon
she cannot cheat my claim once drawn
necrotic in the sickly dawn.

Magdalene, I bite your heel
your blood runs thin
as dreams congeal.

I lock my heart and
eat your pain
until you ride
night mares
again.

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