Stream-of-Consciousness Poetry

"Tempest Tides"

The root of Babylon runs deep,
Planted in the minds of Ethos and Bacchus,
Who weave the fabric of the fate's unfolding,
Incarnate of the defiled day.

One red star guides the black magi,
To the New City of Hister in the American land,
Where painted pictures of the future reconnect,
To forge the gateway to Lucifer's cradle.
Unlight casts bright shadows on the eyes of young children,
 
Dancing to a song of Mars,
Juno arranged for her own amusement,
To spite Zeus in his unreal halls of lust and envy.

Capital sin becomes a witches playground,
Buried in Merlin's sandy cove,

Realized in the bleeding martyr called Joshua,
Who pays the price with every season of the Sun.

Nine times nine the Moon god sings,
Nestled in his sinking home,
Tortured by the Tempest's test,

Dylan Zimmerman forged long ago.

-John Evans and Brandon Young