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An epic poem in many parts about good, evil and redemption. |
Two: Awaken (revised portion of chapter one) It stirred again. The broken conscience awoke and thrashed. Rules to validate it own existence, it wrote. Writ them in the wailing sorrow of his followers, Who would now, had their fate been known, Repent with great zealotry. Those who wore his brand upon their neck Followed those writings of sorrow. With the first following it rewrote The bounds of its own existence, And they, Misbegotten, the pawns and voices In the lands of men, were born. Born in the cosmic swill which flowed From that horror as a canal of wicked deeds. Imprinted with corruption and greed, The very substance of sin, they were. It came forth, through the cracks Between pride and ill-gotten glory, Silent as smoke, a Misbegotten rose. The very air putrefied Perversions within the followers magnified And impurities swelled Until the very act of their existence Betrayed the order of Creation. It seemed as though they Burst with corruption, Festered, quivered and spawned. Through the foul wake of the Misbegotten Corruption dug its knotted root like think ivy Into the souls of the weak and hungry. Willingly they lost themselves In obscene indecency and outrage. They bent their knees to perversion, As a knight should before king. In their primal desires, Walked a descending stairway. The city became an orgy of murderous greed, Hidden from the day lit view by ignorance and inaction. Into that city my feet fell firm, As a cactus in the desert sand. One is only as right as his place, And I fit my place well. From birth a rotten seed was I. A rotten seed to bloom wretched Whose soul is food for the worse. That blooming seed was I. I embraced the sick temptation, Which, like a joyous present Whose wrapping is greater than the gift, I took wholly into a cold heart. It was this which the Misbegotten brought That I took with my entire being, More so than a starved man would devour bread. Openly and completely I accepted this as master. I, unlike the masses of mindless Carcasses who laid down in their corruption Like a pig in swill, neither found myself blind with hate Or carnal thoughts impossible to press down. I found a focus of my own hideous enlightenment And did stumble upon my calling. Thus, I was not a madman, Nor a twisted visionary. While on the streets around me, Tamed animals turned feral, And devoured their rebellious masters. New creatures that did not follow The laws of nature in design or action Stalked the night streets, Hidden behind masks of humanity by day. Upon the falling of the sun, Like wicked mimes whose true visage Is hideous behind painted faces. The creatures cast off their paint and strode boldly Among those who have laid down their hope, And abandoned faith in dark times, Where faith is savior. He who abandons faith, never had it. This I know, for many proud and strong Have fallen with no grace, will to give up faith And live under the shroud of fear. To bolt their door to hope, ignorantly thinking It will keep the monsters out. They bleed in through the cracks Scuttling under the bed and into dark places, Into the corner of their minds. |