Horizontal Hibernation Station

Horizontal Hibernation Station
By: Mark R. Sosa
Copyright 2004

My intellectual marbles of analytical discernment are subtracting within my wisdom's intended alignment. In my in-progress lifespan circulation, I've been privately summoned by seasons of muted intermission.

My former nocturnal, horizontal, hibernation station has momentarily altered itself into an immersible haven of ruinous perdition, a virtual reality of derailing cerebral sleep deprivation.

My optic fixation on this, my picturesque, martyred inauguration, transfigures my unblemished facial pigmentation to sum and equal my instantaneous nothingness expression.

As I lay invalid from my explicit, ebony-tarred hallucinations, Luciferian shadow ghosts immigrate for my banishing session, echoing surround-sound amplified voice-boxes of blasphemy, an alienation of detestation towards Golgotha's invincible ransom, inclined via "The Place Of The Skull" for all unhindered beneficiaries.

Emerging and wailing from my 2+ years of death/thrash metal poetic donations, I'm compelled to revisit and unearth my birthing dust to reconfigure my soul's impaired engine from this self-inflicted, repetitive corrosion of maiming carnal rust.

An indwelling spiritual exoneration is in urgency, as I discern the Hades sanctioning of my deathblow aftermath actuality - a ceaseless, predatory, sadistic, cloven-footed festival of denuded homosexual fleshly ravishment, a cyanide circus in solitary incarceration, to deface the blueprint of my in circulation singularity, and to sabotage the formula of my destiny's boundless potentiality.

Now without omission, Heaven's ivory curtain unveils the "Shadow from the Heat" and HIS angelic brethren, to effortlessly expire all these nefarious-entranced, Medieval double-bladed Fantasy Battle Axe tongue-fondling executioners, one less rogue-aroused editorial for the Abaddon Chronicle, with hands cupped in aerial submission. The Father of the "incorrupt crown" dispatches to me HIS revitalization vaccination and to the Evil One, a cast-down, non-stop, recoiling vile voyage back to damnation.

Now that my intellectual marbles of analytical discernment are once again parallel within my wisdom's intended alignment, my envisioned lifespan aspirations can extol in both seasons of "driven pursuit" and "goal culmination."