Thursday, April 9, 2009

Televised Revelation

Multitudes survive on brittle independence. Scars accumulate. The king of this paradise, is the darkness that shifts the landscapes. Mountains of fire. Presence of grief. His majesty devours pastures, drinks seas, pissing stagnation for others to drink. Given the world, but it isn't enough. Plagues, holocausts, darkness at noon . The wrath is not his but ours. Games are played with inexhaustible fears. Churches entice humanity to worship. Their own reflection becomes God. Faith, comfort through the unknown. Down from the dawn they come. Guitars with precise skeletal fingered players serenading the crimson eyed horses, of the ten thousand riders that follow. Together they lay waste to the garden of light. (published in 2006 in Nohmad's Ch0ir)

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