Horrendous compulsions, dreary as void, consummate.
Illuminating paths, all ignis fatuus, I mark and execrate.
Guilty pleasures, filthy measures, make me whole
(Conceal me not but stir and expose me bold)!
Journeyed forth to the Patience Stone and back,
And yet no delight did I find… Alack:
Found but this Alabaster, drenched black in sins.
Change me please, I plead; wanton demons challenge many a rinse.
But mute is this Rock; You are no miracle, I chant!
Empty of veneration, left I at my own command. Continue reading “The Exorcism”