Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 16

The vision of his apocalyptic age And the rise of the terrible Queen of Stone Imprinted a harping chord upon my mind I stood at the balcony, Overlooking the depthless, darkening maelstrom I stood weakly, As if by accursed flesh I had been banished here for years “What light travails Against such a travesty of black? Against such a tragedy of Steady, evil victory? To ignore such vintages Is to blind oneself of some unquestionable truth A truth that inches its innovating way Into the vessels of doom, To fasten its hope Upon such devouring, Besmirching, corrupted Passion? I am desolate, O God Parched., impertinent below all godless The longer I stay here, The faster such visions take wing Even when such sins merely sift through the mind, Their evils sour and soar through tangible lands Tell me, Eternal Father, What light, What authoritative faith Can thrust such a diabolical force asunder? I tread among his lands, Not Yours, Lord God With the steady heart of a resolved prisoner You are with me always Yet in Your mystery, Your mercy You provide no answer At times, I cringe, For I dread that such an answer Shall soon surface, A fatal answer that will, In the twinkling of an eye, Break Our bond forever! O God of Earth and Heaven Who sustains my life in Hell, If I am to fall short Yes, If I am to rise with such an enemy, This prayer, please heed and rule— I must be destroyed Stone stands not In the livid lightning strike of godly justice In the thunder of Your righteous command Death cries and dies Ruthless wars cease, And for them to cease, I beg you, if fate insists we rise, Tear us down Show me no mercy if I must fail You Bring me down to show the multitudes, That glory belongs to none Who murder such precious light!” I trembled, near to hysterics, The visions overwhelming, And the Prince of Darkness watched At an almost respectful distance Though I knew his mind was high at work His large eyes, void-like, Burned like coals on the brink of disintegration His melancholic tension crushing My woeful tides in spurts of silent rage And together, facing each other, We again sang. . . “You, and I, Upon a thrilling rise of waters Together witnessing the slays and slaughters Of doubt and faith, Spirit and flesh, Darkness and light, Blessings to curses. . .” Softly I sang alone, “I will wait, I will love, I will learn.” Eye to eye, Closer he drew, His dark, baritone voice singing so sweetly “I will wait with her, the Lion of Leeches, Queen of Light or Stone, The swells of triumph embark Upon an ever-yearning throne.”