Necromancer Beauty

Written by a drug addict after being visited by a charcoal cloaked corpse.

Leather and dirt remained
Built up from thunder and pain
Cloaks made from shadow and dust
Worn by the righteously lost

And the tightly tuned closet doors wouldn’t stay closed while the soldiers of snake oil kept soldering holes

Paper men from wealthy abodes
Learned the bedside manner of hope
And offered a shot of nonsense in the pores
To the pagan mistresses and opiate whores

And the necromancer came to play and the necromancer laid inside of her veins

Droves of children rode psychotropic lights
And the necromancer danced all night
Her hood collapsed by the lamp light
With the rash of condemning plights

The necromancer sang all night
To petrified angels in the lake
While the children fell with the rain
And became whispers of their remains