God Of Flesh/Flesh Possesion

 I kept clawing in the dark 

Painting the bodies of the sleeping cult. 

I am no other man,

I am the sound of the unholy whisper. 

Writing scriptures on the flesh of the gone. 

I hear of depression and destruction, 

Of conventions and possessions! 

Sleeping face first, my body is taken by him. 

The God of the flesh and sweat 

from the breath. 

I was humane with a thousand names, sleeping in my own flesh. 

Now I burn in fire of his desires, 

Desires of flesh possession.

  © Aniket More 


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