The Chalice Vermillion

Leanna Nechlon pouts blood and tears. I taste her 
Neck. I can now make her eyes roll to white. Her pulse 
Rate quickens. Throbs upon my probing tongue. Stars 
Fall above us, burning for us. Leanna became the [bad word] 
That save me from life. I've lost faith. 
Decrepit falls my Boston church, cloaking us from 
Within. I tip the cup, life's challice vermillion. The lost 
Drug of God has won. Nine angels, obscene devices for 
The cruel torment of the will. Consume thy paper, it will 
Have to guide us to Earth's Heaven above. 

Flashing light will envelope my body. Give me the 
Strength I have lost but will need. Transcendental my 
Noema develops. Pumping nectar from the darkest sun. 
Leanna Nechlon bleeds scriptures and lies. I drink 
Her thought, poison from it. I will make her... 
As one I write, messenger of God. The inkwell 
Empties. Words are colored life's red. 

Leanna stares, quenched by her fear. Sliding her 
Hand across my face. Going down upon my lips. 
Feeling the blood pour so warm. Tasting like hope, love, 
And rust. Onto the quill it flows so quick. Finish the 
Verse, begin another phrase of lore. Leanna laughs as 
Her wrist fills my cup, and there I was when Leanna 
Died. Write some more. 
As one I write, messenger of God. The inkwell 
Empties. Words are colored life's red. 

God exists, God is good, God is omnipotent. You 
Can only have two of three. To choose them all you 
Contradict. Mackie knew the rules so well he made 
Anselm disintegrate, as Pascal sat to toss his coins on 
The farthest part of the Universe. 
Dead not gone. 
Paper is my torment. The quill is my scalpel. I am 
My own thesis. The pain grows with the years. 

The rain falls down my face and on silent Leanna. 
I've lost. The Universe calls me. Oh, Mother take rne 
Home.