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Nero’s Circus
These corridors are always dark
Only once every other year
Do they turn the lights on
And walk underneath
To see the grotesque nature
That Titus admired
The chandelier weeps the stringy wax
Stretching outward the body
The face attached looks on in horror
As the body cracks open to form
An insect corpus as means of walking
Under the Giotto of Raphael
There is a curious staircase
Leading to the so called caves
Adorned on the walls under the Vatican
Such embodiments of Nero’s fancies
Stretched faces and flayed skin
The first daughter of an impotent man
Like Mary was an immaculate conceived
She is aware now that she is to marry
The sinner that symbolizes eggs
The room is of many slithers
Reflecting from the golden reliefs
Like oil slick lies of the colors it shows
The saints echos in gospel coagulation
This is the origin of sacred ambiguity
This is the birth of the true impurity
The Borgia's nostrils flame of permiscutiy
While Christ is laid to witness
The Pope is penetrating the swollen mound
What's that in the hallway?
A Cardinal in mid thrust
Witnesses our discovery...
Run! They will catch us soon.
