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The Inhumanist

by The Abbess of Abjection

Prophet of abomination

Death's deliverance

for the masses lost

in their shadows

faceless at last

Beneath the foothills

Palo Verdes

Euripedes' country

A man

ancient loner

lives, caretaker of gore

in a land,

forsaken to hawks.

Day & night

he stalks

hungry for absence

for the sedge's rise

over tombstones & hearth smoke.

His only companion

a  Double Axe

two blades of the tragic

 held in his fist

onanism of steel

primed to smite

delighting in the purity

of violence.

Who sees him as he nears?

Doppelgangers crushed

by the wooden heft,

succubi raped

the shaft deep in flesh,

eyes shucked by the blade,

hollows speaking blood.

Not for vengeance

does he rupture

the weak ties

that blind us

to the grave's reality

but for mercy

murders

this pale reflection of grace.

Asserts the earth's

dark return

with every

weapon's swing,

each plunge

of his laughter

heralds a victory

for the waters

and the moon's

inhuman mask.