Ostracized as we are with God —
         The watchers of the civilized wastes
         reverse their signals on our track
 
         Lepers of the moon
         all magically diseased
         we come among you
         innocent
         of our luminous sores
 
         unknowing
         how perturbing lights
         our spirit
         on the passion of Man
         until you turn on us your smooth fools' faces
         like buttocks bared in aboriginal mockeries
 
         We are the sacerdotal clowns
         who feed upon the wind and stars
         and pulverous pastures of poverty
 
         Our wills are formed
         by curious disciplines
         beyond your laws
 
         You may give birth to us
         or marry us
         the chances of your flesh
         are not our destiny —
 
         The cuirass of the soul
         still shines —
         And we are unaware
         if you confuse
         such brief
         corrosion with possession
 
         In the raw caverns of the Increate
         we forge the dusk of Chaos
         to that imperious jewellery of the Universe
         — the Beautiful —
 
While to your eyes
A delicate crop
of criminal mystic immortelles
stands to the censor's scythe.