Nazi At The Gate Of The Souls Rear Mirror Poem by Kevin Patrick

I bleed a trench coat father me black
With ankle bootstraps to keep my irises pat
My soul mate companion is a cast iron cross
Through deviant creation I am purity in frost

Childhood tears commune the true rites of spring
From the father whose future is planned with a whip
And the teachers, whose rules are not well equipped
To guard the sheep from wolves that dance in the crowds

Play cowboys and Indians but not for much long
The ailments of adulthood will soon be passed on
And mourn for the brother who will not see the sun
Hold him close to escape the ghost you will become

Create our escape in the perfect order that will make
Alone in our minds with a thousand years to define
Tribute to Caesar, who pay spears of his legions
And the 300 Spartans, we'll covey our tribulations

Runaway from the flesh that we call our past
From the adultery of beast in matrimonies mess
To Vienna and leipnitz were stars are candle lights
Restless for images which insinuate our delight

Yet decrepitude speaks into this new maelstrom
Wagner's Valkeryis is ruin to the transient modern
And fraudulent doctors massacre mans honour
Leaving nothing but decadent compromise history

So give duty to the brush, to chart an escape
Break fingers on the canvass to delay the eagle wake
Find comfort in Impressions of wild green fields
The serpent eats the lamp as the hour draws near

For I only see the Hyacinths
When the bones begin to avalanche
From the closets in the factories
Where screams were planted in the vats

And I can only feel the sun
From the hammer blows of lightning
In the fury of the old armaments
Where haggard angels sleep with rats

The light ahead casts shadows breath
Chaste daggers hearts, in mercury triumph
For the wills been swept in cavalcade fire
And the soul lays dormant on the porters funeral pyre

As the stranger stands inside my souls rear mirror