The Phoenix Continuum

Mars, rise, embryonic destroyer. The soul is lost, burgeoning ashes. Return to dirt. Solar disk becomes unveiled. Ashes, I am born. Abrupt power, covert anger flows to serve my will. Untempered, sin of flesh. I must rise above, but I'm unwilling. Scythe in hand to strike you down.

I feel the calm. The storm has passed. Enslaved to the cigarette-god, I draw in its toxic smoke and exhale it into the crisp Midwestern air. Worshipping Lord Nicotine (sending out clouds of carbon monoxide prayers). Veins constrict. Soul follows suit. I must have faith. Faith is our narcotic. Mix it with vodka and sleep forever. The Night never ends, revolving like the galaxy around its dark and unseen axis.

Venus is cruel. Love corrodes away the outer shell and exposes the tissue. Then the tissue is torn. I will always heal. Left standing in eternity. The Wasteland. Forgive me, I never sleep. Matter can no longer exist, only the infinite radiating its cosmic whispers. Reaching toward eternity

Trailing on the winds of the north, shadows cast by God the Machine. I dwell in the shadows. Ultimate reason. Move the scorching desert winds. Mars the phoenix always rising. Aries rising. Exalted in the palace of Capricorn.

So I must destroy with hands of glass. Pleasure and pain connected as one, and the nexus of sin under the Sun. Totalitarian ray of the Sun. Drawn toward the singularity. Zero point, nothing star. From the revolving ashes.