Hubris in Remission

Bent backwards at the prospect of derelict denouement
Face raw bereavement, verbiage splitting lips,
The intellectual evisceration; words ripping cerebral constructs,
Theories guillotined for transgressive simplicity
The remaining grey matter suffocates miserly
At the necessary academia
Lens of enlightenment blighted by egomania---
Fallen garb of the self-immolated.

Fate fares well; consummate king of river-flip-salvation,
Vicissitudes of visceral banality---
Ripe but to rot,
Slowed below the freezing tolerance
A mental inertia, slow sickle harvest
Starving heretical for phantoms
Always phantoms
The naysayers of roguish prophecy
Of times less constipated and consternated---
Who died and were made kings.
We bleat canonically at the lupine knowledge
Forever lost in Howling cycles of reverence
Birthed by deference.

Let the tragedy of the hero
Expire in vain;
A tumult of sin,
crazed Auto Da fe.