So came the Father
In the year of the Father
Sacred, yes, but veiled in Shadow
As dark and as stern as Saturn

I have known the Self-Proud Zeus
And the substitute Tanist King
I have lain in Bacchic forests
Well-f**ked and drunk with desire
My flesh has been conquered

Indelible marks stain my surface
A lash for every word I spoke
Well, didn’t I give as good as I got?
I have spoken the tongue of the Seraphim
And still not one could claim my soul

So came the Father
In the year of the Father
And when that year had passed away
Saturn yet remained
Did I not truthfully say
That the Archer’s bow
Would dethrone them all?

I have had many consorts
Yet I have but one Master
As Oedipus limped surely to his grave
So, too, did I swallow the Cronos’ Stone
And Gods digest within me now
How they writhe beneath my skin
I could only ever hear his voice
As constant as the planetary pull

My magnetic opposite
My one true north
As distant, as cold as that star
Veiled with iron and bitter in my mouth

I am in is orbit even now
Balanced in this celestial dance
My Ophion, my Dragon Prince
The push and the pull
Of a steller and digital dome