the blood and tears
of that close horizon
blinking, blinking,
dropping falling
as day fades out
and night creeps up

and what of empire…
or is it Empire
and how
it sanctifies itself
in the blood
of many martyrs
in the tears
of all the saints
and quenches
every thirst
in the wailings
of the haints

what is the holiness of Empire?

It is rapacious lust it is
the Power in powerful
it is everquesting MUST
transmogrification of
lovesongs into laments

and the only sacred left
bleeds and weeps
while gnashing teeth
rip tender skin
and the privileged feast
on famine