Pentagrams Burning Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Props of purple chariots
We grow old like Bergman's Island
Do you dare to pray?
Do you search for a new ray gun?
I have felt the super natural

Leaves of celestial captains
Those who fight genetic engineering
Have you felt a family ghost?
Maybe you're too wicked for love
She clings to her life like a fungus

Dark horses in the howling wind
They make love like sweet wolves
Shadows touch her silk thighs
Wet chessman of the dungeon
Red candles cry in the storm

She embraces cryptic names
Nephilim visit her soul
Succubus dance in his room
Lovers visit her solemn coffin
Her soul hangs on a ancient tree

She rests with pentagrams burning