The Last Rotting Days of Christ, by Blind Boy

My lips chap
gazing off the sharp ledged precipice
Kneeling to begin my prayer,
Hot black blood creeps from my broken skin
A sharp cry cracking and tumbling into the hole
I vomit in to nothingness,
And in turn the universe vomits nothingness back into me.
Gazing down I can see the blacked vile of my veins
as it mingles with the dust
reddened and tear-filled eyes
I see a distant life unfurled,
a mighty flag in the sky,
indomitable, a promise it carries.
Watching the machine gobble my image.
Forced to watch as time forgets me
I am undone,
Unraveled and cast out
Walking cold and nameless
skin breaking again and again,
Bleeding a sorrowful stream.
Created once to be less,
then compelled to be more.
Dust grips and shreds in my lungs
Reeking of blackness,
heaving that darkness into my lap.
Quickly forgetting my trouble.
Crying, born again scar covered and sick but
Myself.

To see Blind Boy's first contribution to The Eunuch, the cult-famous "Delirium (Trying to get turned on by Molly)," click here.