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