Blood Beguiles Phantoms

Sensations of anguish swallow me whole

Anxiety drills its way to the marrow

The quill I dip in the red ink impure

To compose poetry by which they are allured

Mounted upon a three-legged horse

My zest for life trudges forth

An invitation to the phantoms unseen

The kama-rupic rinds in betwixt and between

Like souls of sinners in purgatory fires

Striving to escape the jaws of demise

The remnants of unbridled human desires

Severed from matter by the kiss of the Scythe

Concealed in the multitude of leeches

Yearning to feed on my vitality

I can sense the intensity of their hunger

To consume what is still left of me

Predatory functions inhabiting not flesh

As if vicious thoughts were floating around

Sharing the collective curse

The compulsion of parasite paradigms

Drained me dry and emptied my chalice

Leaving but an echoing well behind

Locked up I am in this dark chrysalis

To hatch out devoid of body, soul and mind

Wrapped in the multitude of leeches

Yearning to feed on thy vitality

Thou can sense the intensity of our hunger

To consume what is still left of thee