Shoot me, Judas! I
am disposable, leper-
scarred by the Devil’s
messiah eye, no
escape from the cyanide
fire. The whiplash kiss
of the Slither Prince—
an invisible lyric
calls to me, creeping
within like black ice.
God is a frayed phantom, failed
anesthesia, king
of the wasting fade,
lord of remorse. I roam my
nightmare memory,
bleeding hands pull the
remains of the day through the
dirty redemption
that is never death.
Trapped in the sanity of
suicide sorrows,
the blackened windows
of puppet sleep purify
nothing. Misery!
The apocalypse
monster never comes . . . There is
no cure for this life.
Tags: haiku, heavy metal, Napster, poetry
The Book of Haiku Revelation 