Great Light separates the heavens.
River Lethe flows, finding form,
A sea that swims the sky.
Dark waters drown the baptismal head.
Waiting in the wings, Priestly curators prepare,
Pointing the Initiate toward, Elysian realms.
Through the cavernous halls of Hypnos,
Bated breath carves memories upon the walls,
Caught between, extensive winding corridors.
A twisted plot, trapped in the throat
… entombed …
fails to manifest.
An unspeakable stance.
Long time forgetting …
Attempting to articulate
Lost inside confining chambers.
Confiding our deepest sins
Spoken with sincere, severe …
Chilling cries of contempt.
Cold stone grave
Lying a few steps away
Plodding through consuming gray.
Body falls … and …
Tortured Soliloquies stab the air
Ignites into an incisive bird of prey.
Yearning to fly feather light
Beyond Samael’s sentencing quill.
~ by David Stanovcak (aka, Ian)