Angelicus Maleficus

Lame and with palsied limbs,
As the errant once more,
This rubicon I began.

To roam this mobius strip with its contours
Of ice and razors
Purged may I be by my labors.

No matter how the farther, I may seeketh to maunder,
Only to be cast before the same daemon,
Fettered in manacles of my own making.
Diabolical you are-
Travesty of my hunger, failings, and vice,
I am monstorous and must sacrifice.

Incorruptible by oath or penance,
I chanced to see if she were versed in vengeance!

And so raised that blade,
Sword of my conviction,
Cursed and keen,
And oh, my eye did such a maddened lilt,
As my fist coiled round that rugose hilt.

Wrought of my wrath and tempered by sedition,
‘twas this instrument of mine redemption.

This very one I was forever sharpening,
Yet dare not unsheathe,
Grew thirsty and thirstier still,
by garnered belief.

And lo, that thirst was dually staunched,
As I drove that cutting edge into the soft, scaly, underbelly of that hellion,
Sex and hoary haunch betwixt.
Undulant and surreptitious to the last,
I dispatched her hellward,
Giving that blade a
Savage,
Savage
Twist.

Then with my slaying hand still steamin’ red,
And my nemesis laid low as a babe in the bed.

At long last, I may begin to
Love,
casting my sights fugue-like to the ascendancy above.