Poem: “The Homunculus”

The freak show woman danced away,

For midnight hour to thus spill and bloom.

Deranged and wild as spectators watched,

She spun and twirled away.

Eye askew and chapped lips,

Imperfect in a deformed world,

The visages, shards of glass,

Descending in a Gnosis lapse.

Stricken angel drawn to earth,

Sheltered by the cave’s embrace,

To wax in darkness

And give birth

To one of those sad lapses

Of sperm and Blood,

Of animated decay.

By three signs, three sigils,

Risen from the earth,

Dead land to vivified birth,

The homunculus strides again.

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The Metafictionalist

The Metafictionalist

Writer, editor, educator, and obscurity enthusiast