IIIIIII

The serpent
Coils upon coils
A thousand thousand fathoms
Coils upon coils

Scales shroud the earth
And the facets cabochon eyes
Become as the sun
The firmament becomes a
Writing tapestry

It welcomes the procession
Of the penitent
They seek favor, compelled
By orgiastic terror

In echopraxic convolsions
Hollow prostrations
To outdistance doom
To stave off an ending

Coils curl on coils
Writhing as if
Towering roots
Surging from the earth
From the skies

And all your anthroposophy is as dust
Neither memory nor ghost remains