The Caverns of the Soul

Within my psyche Primordial Consciousness still survives
The predatory lusts of Ancestors, for Millenniums dead,
I sense the Immortal presence of Ancient Lives;
‘Tis on the Blood of Others alone they shalt be fed.

Yea, deep within my vestal soul such beings await,
Crying out “Recall, let slip Time’s eternal chains!”
History is ripe for such appetites again to sate,
Upon Armageddon’s Field barbaric passion reigns.

The rapacious baying of bloodthirsty carnivores demands
To wet their maw anew on salty sanguine gore,
To conquer and despoil beyond their bastion lands,
They sense their hour has come to be once more.

Buried deep, but this Dark place, once discovered and known,
I am apt to linger, and often do return,
For congress with things dangerous and untamed hath grown
Addictive; to share their memories of carnage I further yearn.

If all men of this fickle Age, as I, do likewise feel
The stirring of such vile passions deep within,
Then History has turned full-circle on her wheel
To loose anew a tumultuous, unbridled reign of Sin.