full of eyes
by sigma
imagined history states that
an accuser, Lucifer,
was at one point:
an angelic lead voice,
bearer of an eternal flame,
first among equals
in a whole host of holy beings;
and how God loves thee,
even as your distortions,
perturbations,
and abominations
attempt to consume
every last little piece.
in the periphery,
at a bridge on the
outskirts of a humanity
blind to divinity
this visionary has seen at least
that threefold state
where four living
beings conjugate
wings beating to bellow
an energetic array
in the twelve spaces
of faces which emanate
incense floods the liminal space
"oh all my doubts!
brothers from each others mothers"
"what have your envies and fears uncovered? what has it afforded us?"
"did we discover the knowledge of
good and evil, become godly
in the process of indifference
bringing us closer together?"
falling seemingly forever in love
with ourselves?
or was it instead
the envelopment of bending
light as the screen behind the mirror
sunk our minds at an alarming rate
into the black hole state of staring
at a reflection of your face? our face?
face to face forming doubt about
which one if us is real. My God!
rescue me from this aberrant
looking glass, this sea of dark lies.
awareness of this doubt floods
an anxious id inside me
sparkling fires in flywheels
created easy killing fields,
death marches
to hide
the dead
deep inside hills.
metastatic
man machines
mowing scorched earth
circumfusing
self-healing roads and
walls ever-present
dividing,
all the while
expanding chalk-white
land rights use
with a salty earth-based
mythology,
freedom to lie, liberty to take
complete with homeland security.
im not seeing a lot of good stuff
but Im trying to keep the holiest
of my spirits up.
im sorry faithless believers,
but I dont have an issue with Gods divinity.
unlike those who claim His name
hurt those already in pain,
and consume innocents
Revelation 18 says
God has already placed a millstone
around their sweating necks
in time we'll see the ocean
chasm turn its tides
to crush their shameful hide
20,000 fathoms deep and wide.
its always been those who
love to live lies, at the expense
of everyone's life
OH! but here's the thing about that—
the spectacle of our Self
causes quite a scene,
denying, deflecting, projecting
those scars and callouses
on our hearts
as sword-shaped
crosses to bear from
this galvanized mark
outlining a dead sea
paid for with the
blood of our very first brother,
otherwise known as
countless lambs slain
to remind us
the wages of sin
is life, itself
culminating
in the innocents
slowly slipping away,
no matter how hard we grasp,
death awaits
desolate
désole
in a sense, every sense
communicates this
far-flung state.
we fill the skies
full of eyes,
while engaging in
a flesh interface
4 living beings are now
covering cherubs
with a baby face
who would you choose
to hand over your fate?
a guide,
a guardian
an authoritarian snake?
of course they say
"our love isss alwaysss a peaceful orderly ssspace.
propagating at an ever-exsssspanding rate."
yet every eye sees
every ear hears
nothing metastasizing,
eating everything on its plate.
an abomination that makes desolate.