A scurry of sleepy devotion, a handful of dazed
Shrieks - panic from nether dreams,
Incubi make their last claims tonight.
Come out to meet him!
Trim the wick
Clean the soot
Pupils widen
Light the glim!
A quintet of
Eager souls in
Groaning flesh, anticipate a coruscant countenance that penetrates
Into the dark
Oh how the maidens have
Waited for
Heavenly consummation!
Pour for us a portion of your oil, for ours shall run out too quickly!
The prudent refuse, for the wick is
Sealed
By Elijah's Spirit,
Whose blessings overfloweth - their lamps runneth over from within,
Whose covenant endureth for eternity,
Whose radiance reacheth from everlasting to everlasting.
He comes at this very moment.
Go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.
They depart for eternity's sake.
Incubi act. Dreams precipitate. Doors shut.
The moon is gone but
Darkness remains,
The heart of the earthly present unclothed by grace,
Feeble shadows in motion, cast by lamps that are wasting
Away all over again.
Lord, Lord, open up for us!
Fair knuckles bleed against gristly wood.
I know you not, verily I say.
For many are called, but few are saved.
~tc
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