George Sylvester Viereck

Kakodaimon

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THE mockery of thy lips adored,
Thy lovely languid head
Enwreathed with poppies red
Is my loadstone:
Because thou art cruel, therefore be my Lord,
Kakodaimon!
Thy glorious body, unto me made known,
Is like a stately fane of alabaster
Where in procession, to thy praise alone,
'Mid torches' glimmer and organ's pealing tone,
Pass scarlet Sin, and Shame, and black Disaster,
Kakodaimon!
Then blaze the windows bright
With weird unearthly light;
The outer throng fall prostrate at the sight,
But guess not whence it is,
Nor hear the scornful hiss
Of thy contempt upon their offerings blown,
Kakodaimon!
Ah, but I know, and yet I have not gone —
Stand boldly fronting this my destiny,
That my reward must my damnation be,
To wait in silence for the dread decree
And find no mercy at Jehovah's throne,
Kakodaimon!
Thine is the blame if o'er my head shall roll
His thunderous wrath: yet if one spake "Disown
Thy love, or bid farewell to Mary's Son!"
I should not grasp the priest's absolving stole,
But, choosing, at thy worshipped feet lie prone,
O splendid evil genius of my soul.
Kakodaimon!

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George Sylvester Viereck