The Squalor

Soothsayer of the low tides
and I wanted to die 
I wanted to die  
That dark horizon had me singing
and for a time I was limitless
Feed the machine? Well, I was screaming  
In the tombs of Eternity 
Daylight’s anvil in the squalor summer 
Surrendering to soundless chaos
and I vanished
I vanished into wonder   
That dark horizon was feeding me
and for a time I was limitless 
In the cauldron of existence
Living lightning flashed in my eyes
Imagine eternities in tongues of fire like flaming graces
and I wasted and I wasted and I chased it 
Summer skies swollen with storms 
I was a peasant of the meadows
but it was irradiated wasteland 
The moon had winged shadows
and I panicked 
I panicked in Time
Tessellating storms on the skylines the moon was in a reservoir it was splendor and squalor on a moonshine sea but I was sinking in the Machines like a cyborg thing
and I wasted and I wasted and I wasted and I chased it
and the stars were twinkling in repose
and the apertures were arresting me 
it was a sorcery of light I chose
but for flaming grace I chased that agony with nothing to lie upon
and I was gone and
I was gone 
Symphony of the four winds 
my eyes were restless evangelists 
Vanishings in the tombs of golden afternoons 
I wanted every golden eve I held
and I wanted them to— 
the planet was singing like desire to me  
there was darkness in the universes Adamantine
and I vanished
I vanished with Time
Lantern over the abyss 
I was an angel of the apocalypse
and I witnessed the ends
An infinity of times