ravine

In the sky, flying high, next to nude Angels weeping I think it's a sign, but my mind refuses to believe it I see priests lining the sides of the shores grieving Beside demons who keep, leaning on horned winged creatures Who breathe steam and extend a single wing - thirty meters I see them, drag curvy daggers in the dirt, and speak in evil Wording, and from Earth, would spring a burning, cursed Seething helix of worms and serpents, turning and squirming Bursting from the surface, and curling as if birthed From a whirling dervish, twirling, encircling the turf The sheer girth of this herculean curse was spurning And working it's murderous hurt, on the servants whose nervous Verses - summoned it up, as they were running and huddling Their ugly gluttonous brother, suckled and bludgeoned them And fed on their fucking stomachs, as they bled in the mud Covered in hundreds of sudsy blood puddles, dug in, struggling Like slugs suffering, or bugs stuck in gum, they muttered And grumbled, uttering muddles, from cut tongues that hung, sputtering Suddenly shuddered by a ton of grubs, above them hovering Which plunged down upon crowns, the sound of puckering Resounded, bouncing from the ground to the mountains, through towns It echoed, through deserts and forests and meadows around us Countless were left headless, their necks bent, stretching, settled Twitching in beds of their intestines, and dented metal I watched in horror as the writhing force cornered Each priest, horseman, demon, and warrior swordsman And began to immediately sweep, over the corpses Greedily eating scores of their sore, beaten torsos Feeding, I observed the keen serpent-worm speeding Over the beach, seemingly screeching, my ears bleeding Why would these people bring forth such a horrible being Which then would proceed to destroy their hoard completely? I saw reinforcements pour to the beast, swords gleaming Swinging repeatedly, screaming in torment, as it defeated Them easily, the fiendish ritual performed by the morbid Had transformed by metamorphosis, into a war for this Land, they tried to torch the mammoth with scorching Flammable orbs advancing towards it from enchanted sorcerous Hands, but they glanced off the animal, whose mandible cracked Lashing an enormous, coarse, forked tongue through the backs Of it's attackers, slapping the organs out of them, laughing And cackling, as the black witchcraft they practiced had no actual Effect on their master, the magical casters defected back To their castles, leaving the ones left to patch up the disaster It was but a few minutes, until the spinning devil had finished Dispatching the final frightened packs of men, and then it Casually turned to me, grinning, as if to brag of it's winning And to turn my attention to the fact that I was the last one living The colossal monster, then stomped off, in the distance The mixed crossed fossils of its dark apostles sticking In the sludge as a testament to its gothic existence