Obscura
through the lens darkly piercing the vail starkly
past the thin veneer of the world into the next, past
the bones of this incarnation and gravitations greed
through the lens of the past, reflexing into the future
of a world never known or understood, a thin film on paper
the chemistry of magic steals the essence of life
the taker of souls, the reaper of the unknown
that dwells in this little black box
divided nine by nine inches in wind-carved stone, nails did shone
all distilled to a flat land of infinite horizons in black and white
a realm reflected of our own, a dimension of light and no sound
forever frozen in the images of an imagination transfixed by the wrath
of shadow and the burning divinity of light in camera obscura
the details of god and creation, n legions of neither realms
forever emblazoned upon is an object of de art
packed away in this little black box
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