Some Thing

A rend in the Stone
Dust and rust alike
Tumbling, skipping to the grass blades
Made subservient to the hurricane blizzard.
The Stone pulsates
Recoils, Its fear
Neatly laced along Its frost-fanged facade–
The Face of Hate.
Some Thing makes a presence
An emergence from the chasm–
Eminence dressed in tresses of winged silver.
The prancing began
And over the Stone the Some Thing sat
Throbbing just ever so easily.
Not just any eye
That stands before a Human Heart
Could fathom the majesty of the Thoughts
Of such a Some Thing.
It caused a ripple in the rip
And “Be gone ” spake the Stone
To only produce a more intense calm over the Some Thing
Despite the pictures which twirled in whirlpools in Its soul:
Dreadful scenes
Macabre things
The Devil would cease to smirk
And shudder with disgust and agony:
Heads asunder, Loveless Sex, beaten Babies and the loss of God,
Severed dreams lying hopeless around the used bed of a child herself,
Weeping souls forgotten in a barren realm of Listlessness,
Childless Whores,
And Eyes blinded by the beams of Propaganda.
So the Some Thing swallowed back
Lest it vomit Its very reason for Life
And opened Its glittering platinum wings
In fear, the Stone curled back Its lips
Teeth brazen, cracked with the split flesh
Of all the blameful fallen Angels of the Earth
The Some Thing swept outward–
A white steed and the epic star-bedaubed creature, too–
And forced Its own meaning through the Stone’s deafened ears.
The Stone screamed
Kicked and retched
Pleaded to be released from such anguish
Yet the wings of the moon were vengeful, merciless
Illiterate of the pitiful helplessness of the Ignorant
And slid Its last double-bladed image through the Stone’s limestone skull.
The Stone withered away like moonflowers in the sun
Never to wash away the last iridescent needle that sewed through Its head
‘Twas nothing but the still-life scene
Of a quiet billowing ivory cloud
Gently kissing the elbows of a shadowy, trembling member of its own.