The back of the world is broken
Saint Charles has spoken—
out of a Panic cloud
the hordes of Hades crowd,
tyrannosauric martyrs, blood rain,
incubi, necrophages, fauns,
the four horsemen—a world of pain
elaborated into many forms,
and at their head the queen
a skeleton of evil wires, contorting
sickeningly, surveys the scene
and blights the land with fires.
The gods surround the planet
to watch its catastophic ellipse.
"The hordes of Hades have my bet,"
the black saint said, "That's what
I call a goddamn apocalypse!"
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