Predestination

I am rage, and good
At turning a blind finger to the sluices of the night.
How immense and unstoppable, the sluices of the night.
The tightness of her corpse
Twists like a wheel grinding on a concrete
Scream, howls and blood in the distance. This dark
Tapers like a carrion, a candle -- keep the candle --
Organs of decaying wax.

If I twist myself a monolith, who will be left?
Only the livid face of the night,
Only her slime-green, palpitating breath.
Still I will give my all to her:
Death, who loved me from birth --
Grim death, who sucks my fingers and my dreams.
I am the pleasure principle, revolting,
And I am diminishing into silence:
The marriage of silence is the key for blue souls.