Dreams:
part 2
Those Born of duality
bite the forbidden fruit,
Have the consciousness of their mind split
separation from the divine.
At our greatest; still trapped,
Just Victims of mortality,
This world does not exist for us.
Simply brought to our knees by time.
Tick…tock…
tick…tock…
tick…tock
beasts born of blood
left only with a glimmer…
A chance to dabble in consciousness, a glance
rabble of this species’ brood
modern civilization
Blood of man
seeping through stone steps of temples and helmets.
Born
of Fear,
of darkness,
of light,
and all that we cannot escape the wrath of …
nor conquer.
Seeking The Grace of the divine,
in all of its righteousness; and
beauty order in an indifferent world.
Seeking rejecting the beast’s blood
within, sparks humanity
those accidental observers of time
Birthed a world of mad men crying,
“where is god?”
they said,
“God is dead”
They shout,
“Must not we ourselves become god?”
our chance has come Seize the crown… that throne is empty.
Bound to this earth, in this mortal shell.
now given the choice of a god,
the Duality of consciousness…
choice…
freedom…
What “good” and what “evil”?
What Is your choice?
Is it A(n) (A)moral world?
face a world In the land East of Eden,
a world of nod, just wanderers.
So, Shall we choose to reject you too, oh god?
Or, with this knowledge of good and evil
may we enact through you, oh god?
Oh, but We are creatures of our nature, less we forget...
deep within ourselves, in Our minds, in Our desires.
With the dark of void, its cold, dead, and gripping emptiness
What is left?
Once grace is lost
We emulate and Create order through Chaos
That of the highest order, divinity
So we may join that of the blood and body and soul
A Sacrament, so that we may be reborn,
And become akin to you, god.
Amen.
*Cough*
Alas, even our greatest gestures are but a pittance,
no matter what are actions taken
they are but evanescent to the abyss.
And, try as we might but we are just ants too
Babbling about our mounds and towers, attempting to
ascertain the indifference of the universe,
bound to this floating rock.
Like Sisyphus
left to ride the Hearse.
Rolling, and if we were to ever touch the sky,
Babble, babble, our towers will fall
the eldritch horrors in their truest form, resetting us all
Either it is divine or dreaded
Indifferent to us all
These greatest truths are not meant for these eyes,
time warping space, and that thin layer of reality that we see,
and then everything else we don’t
the unfathomable.
Because we are not gods just caught in-between.
SO! THEN WHAT!
