False Idols

You can't hear me. I know this.

I am the wind, you are the panes

Of a large glass house on a hill.

I mourn. You are the axis of the earth.

Time builds your roads; I climb over

Its hills, dodge its potholes and

Crawl out of its pits of quicksands.

Where am I going?

You were never my compass, but I

Rejoiced in your passing that marked

Each day and determined each night.

Am I in Hell?

I breathe fire and think in screams;

My darkest corner is my quietest spot;

My scars adorn me like tattoos.

I am Hell.

I am Lilith, defiant and independent,

Sinning and lonely, yet stronger than brimstone's fumes.

You can't hear me. I know this.

The angels around your head have

Eaten your ears and crowned you

In flammable twine.

I will burn in my lake of fire.

You will burn in the eternal,

Spotless sunshine of your mind.