Of days once dark and dim,
Once lived the Father Architect
And all did follow him
But in days soon to come and pass
He gave not sound or sign
For when the people heard him not
His throne met depths of brine
I. The Self-Created Manifesto (The Seraphic One Observes):
I am floating above the Earth.
I: a word only understood recently.
But what is I?
I turn to stare inward,
An answer must surely reside within.
Stare: to gaze with mine eyes.
I observe the surface before me.
I mind the circlet of mountains,
Towering and magnificent.
What shapes are these!
They prove home to idols,
With figures akin to mine.
Within the coil of lifted earth,
A cell of beings
Push and pull each other.
And it is there.
The periphery of folk,
Encompassed within their center
Remains a dark and desolate,
But welcoming, crevasse.
As if upon notice,
A rushed flicker appears from the opening.
Pulled utroquely, and yearning,
I begin my descent.
II. Observation in a Time Loop:
The earth grows large,
I recognize the curvature of this body.
A storm comes,
The scent of summer rain saturates the air.
To smell such things, ethereal!
Above the ring of mountain peaks,
I recognize my forefathers;
My soon-to-be invalids.
Crown’d with the touch of halos,
I too reflect the nimbus.
The people gather in millions
Celebrating lesser men.
Before me: my rift in the earth’s crust.
The mountains make way for the eye-shaped feeder.
Speed hastens beneath this façade.
The wind on my back whispers
Of idle talk amongst others.
I study the bodies before me,
Only for an instant.
I once was a child,
Then to become an adult.
With unrushed intentions, the sepulchre rushes past
Descending beyond the lip.
III. The Decrepit Vessel Deteriorates:
Falling deep into the chasm, head long,
I turn to moon upward toward the aperture.
Growing wide and ravenous,
The eye does not let up.
I yield to my holder, with little strife;
I have chosen such an existence.
I see now that I am bare.
My only companion,
These eyes you have betrothed to me,
With which all things become apparent.
A lonely heart and lonely mind make for chaos,
And in turn,
I turn to gaze again,
The depths of my endless fissure.
My mind recedes;
My veins grow dark with the toiled touch.
The nimbus percolates in purpose.
The Moirai cackle at my atrophy.
IV. The Other Half:
Separate entities concerned
How I resent these beings,
The ones I address as cognate.
Structure and order be their greatest ally.
Look on them!
Look how they recoil from the edge,
Pushing and pulling; The animals.
They fear only the unknown,
That which they do not know,
The Great Ravine.
The lives of such, in safety and security,
But at what cost? Ignorance,
I shall know none of it.
Which purpose has this life?
One of solace and intrigue,
But with whom to share it?
I turn to gaze at the mouth of
my dark valley.
I sever myself from the organism.
I take the first step.
Falling, deep into the cavern,
I sense a presence.
V. The Coming to Consciousness:
Drifting among demons,
This sea bequeaths no solace.
Gazing deeper I realize,
This is no book with which to acquire,
But a mirror, from which to be taken.
Such efforts to continue
Take from my vessel;
A siren of my mind.
Oh, celestial Angel!
Do my eyes deceive me?
Has my mentality accelerated to madness,
An apparition of the mind?
I gaze in unknown directions,
To watch the last remnants of my seraph dissipate.
Oh, astral Clockwork!
Why do you corrupt me so,
In ways no man could hope to combat.
But it was in this moment,
I knew no pain.
Returned to the whole,
Assimilated into the faultless self.
New eyes I have acquired,
And as I gaze about,
The cavern takes on new meaning.
Far below, the ravine bottom,
Or more-so the veil.
Turning, once more to gaze inward,
I admire this new and perfect vessel.
Two flawed creatures, assimilated into
Omniscience; One common heartbeat.
The time has come to actualize the aureole;
The abysmal chasm submits.
As I reach the cavern bottom,
I come to recognize my keeper.
A mirror, she reflects the ins and outs.
At last, the shaded pane before me,
I take the first step.
Gazing the fathoms, the mountains emerge,
The body of individuals, praising still
The convalescents and cadavers.
I shall retire them.
Upon passage through the veil,
I find myself of the origin.
I look down to regard the same abyss,
But as well, different.
The divine maker, I bestow the first
Of godly gifts.
Atop the spanning mountain peaks,
The idols, falling from grace.
The crevasse welcomes,
They shall know much of their teachings.
Dismay plagues the sheep,
Soon to know a similar fate.
Much toil proves necessary,
I have much to do.
And I am contented.