Caliginous Bastion

I come to you again impenetrable,
Hard, cold, shaped by the hands of Gods;
I come to you again as beast,
Careful, instinctual, destructive.

I lay out my palms to feed hungry ghosts,
Those pathetic souls I have devoured;
Shame and remorse bleeds my soul,
Obnoxious joy and ecstacy escape my lips.

I have regained my bastion of power,
This caliginous habitat of mortar and stone;
It is me, I, myself, mine,
All these bleak characters that makes my home.

I ask you to come sit by the fireplace,
This ashed corner of debris;
Then have a sip of my luxurious wine,
My special odourless taste of apathy.

You don't like my place?
This nonchalant peace that surrounds;
You don't like the faded drapes?
My shadow companions make no sound.

You are tired and you detest my place,
This home that whispers nothing;
You should take a bed and share my hearth,
And I shall show you blissless moaning.

You leave now and say no more,
You always do stranger;
Go play with those wretched things,
Those colourful mounds of beating hearts.

Wait! Where are you going?
You are going away;
Where is home stranger?
A happy place stranger than mine.

You will come back one day,
Oh, you will when you hear the sirens sing;
And you will join in my dark song,
This de-spirited melancholy with toxic sting.