AZRAEL! Come for me,

I feel the crowds encore

Is emerging closer onto me;

The Seraphims see no more ---

Thier eyes were thrown away at sea,

And the perforations from my skin deplore

Against the sands I die upon on

'Till all sanguinary tears are gone.

 

Exile is what they find in me

In this sacrosciatic coliseum o'er

The python's caryatides of the dim sea,

Crashing eternal wings ashore

To know that exile is what I'll be

Once it comes to roar an encore

All around fear in me,

Is how I've come to gore

Out fleshes from the parts of me,

Tarrying, here alone, before

All the crowd glaring down at me;

Finding amethyst of sands seeping o'er

The umbras, without form, taking me

Nowhere from the anarchic crowd of encore

Against the sands I die upon on

'Till all sanguinary tears are gone.

 

O AZRAEL! Come for me,

I feel the crowds encore

Is emerging closer onto me;

Now I see no more.