Shireen Ramadan

Rookie (14/5/2012)

Incinerators' Era Ov Vermin - Poem by Shireen Ramadan

Sculptured in hands ov Christ, stigmata séance ov ruined spirits.
Restricted in chaotic whisper, ov piercing divine, in gore & slime.
In rot & slime we lose our hold, my holding vermin, backbones ov small.
Slaughtering the small, incinerators ov war, I'm the fiery blaze ov phobic in close.
Wars ov Agb in rotten dead words, in exist ov slacker antique.
Ov ivory & horns, my banquets ov norms, ov lost culture, suckling.
In dungeons & burdens, in Scandinavian ruby.
In myriad hunger caves ov plague, in era ov lions, in decease ov famines.
My slime in burn, my phobic in close, exposing internal, ov sovereign nocturnal.
Calculating nerves in realms ov horror, my zenith ov vermin in blood ov eternal.
Slaughtering the small, incinerators ov war, I'm a stagnant zombie in bloodguilt abnormal.
With sub creatures being involved, erotophobic masturbating deals.
Humans ov rubbing, buried in limbo, in cores ov beings, my sower ov evil.
Sprouts ov fertility, watering to grow, growing in fear, with burying disappear.
From springs ov summer we lose our hold, in past Sodom winds, old warriors ov conscious.
Shallowing mermaids in the water ov God, to demise in limbo, ov stabbing crucifixion.
In pods ov the Western sea, ripping hair ov nymphs.
Black mermaids in winds, in Sapphic water rings.
Calculating evil in water ov Gomorrah, baptizing virgins, my era ov vampire.
On battlefield we sing the chaos, cultivating fear, ov magnet disappear.
I'm a lost vermin in magnets ov hatred, wilful to die, incinerators in near.
In magnets & vermins, overwhelmed in nerves, recollecting fire, in dancing wars ov higher.
My vanity ov sane in whispers ov wane, my murmurs ov wax, in virtues ov tragedy.
I'm a damned aggrieved in rotten bound, I'm a stigmata séance ov ruined profane.
In grieves ov long we sing the chaos, cultivating God, in sacrificial dame.
In dungeons & burdens, in Scandinavian ruby.
My dragons ov crusades in a black age ov gold.
In dungeons ov sands, beneath my rotten hands.
My golden age ov stony demise, in dungeons ov wit, beneath worshipping ground.
Mediaeval banquets ov crunching royal, misanthropic Caesar, in figures ov might.
Eager soil in spoons ov gold, in vermins' dead spawns, my era ov vampire.
I'm a meagre tribute ov catharsis, Purgating Jesus, sowing diabolism.
Catharsis ov lore, in Tophets ov war, purgating hell icons, biblical symbolism.
Diabolic in eager, incinerating skin, nodded to sub, subhuman vermin.
Enslaving the green, in my dead beauty, virginity ov mean, maternal obscene.
In naked heads ov forbidden, forbidding hearts from touch.
Suffocating angels, vomiting the black, in sable they cry, in white sludge.
Handling essential to no essence, begging for love, ov absolute above.
For no crimes we sing the chaos, culminating fear, ov virgins still here.
Slaughtering the small, incinerators ov war, with axe ov denotation.
Disturbance ov waves in silent noise, awaking zombies, my cult ov pollution.
Restricted wars in secrets ov whisper, from underneath we murder devotion.
In dungeons & burdens, in Scandinavian ruby.
In sad purple ov young, in roses ov high, we long to die.
Burying Yahweh in my divine, in burning graves ov heaven to crime.
My shades ov Sodom in rotten dead words, escaped from might in sacrifice ov time.
Removing the spoiled in arms ov revenge, fixing dead carrion, in flesh ov serene.
Sculptured in hands ov grave, in virtues we die, my era ov vermin.....

Comments about Incinerators' Era Ov Vermin by Shireen Ramadan

There is no comment submitted by members..

Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 11, 2012

[Report Error]