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.”
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
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