Charles C Brooks III & Anthony DeTomasso  


Tonight we unabashedly

cursed common clock keeping

and crashed  past the witching hour,

weaving each word in decadent disregard.

We are both Dante and Virgil- educated and wise,

possessed by  an insatiable lust,

refusing the thought of a set Fate behind us.


We are not obstinate excuses for rage,

but Beethoven-bred criminals

brought up for the scandal of greatness.

Two swaggering rakes,

laced in turmoil,

forged in one pulse.

Blood of a long forgotten

enlightened nobility.

We are rogues with tender hearts

and a riot of ravens within us.


We wear Nietzsche's drive to conquer

around our lady licked necks

with faith filling our quiet time.

Christ walks before us

even though our flesh is formed from

an Old South voodoo.


In our throat, a lion's roar.

Untamed and passionate,

tempered, tortured, and talented,

we see the grave as only a speed bump.


We suave wolves do not share parents,

as birth is only Chance.

We are bombastic bastard poets,

currently rewriting the world,

evolving in our inspiration.