Drink deep of the night as you observe
one of the last rites of bygone ages.
Throw back your head and howl
your deference to the waning glory
of the cadaver moon.
Shiver in anticipation as she submerses
once again into the nightmare of dawn.
Follow the path etched out by the sickly glow
of her flickering minions.
Observe also their demise with rapt fascination.
Fill your lungs with the cloying scent of expectation.
Drown yourself in heady nothingness
as those remote motes glisten
whipping their way through vast unfathomable depths.
subject to the whim of charnel house winds.
Remember: as the moon's sibilant breath
sends streaming vapors of lucidity
to bathe and cloak you in the full regalia of madness.
Remember: the legions of the damned
who now inhabit a castle of seething midnight.
Remember: that they too once paid homage
beneath the pitted face of this same deranged deity
whose only gift is the bestowing of insanity.
O' do remember
the legions are anxious to welcome you into their midst
and, I would expect
if you keep staring at the moon
it won't be long,
until you meet