Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Book of the Fallen Blood Moon




Chapter 9: A bird named Justice

She paraded herself around the denizens of the outer world, a beautiful bird named Justice
she scampered in the brown fallen leaves and worlds like a harpy on steroids, made of metal
deep green and ancient moss, all below the rusted houses, bathed in the fiery white waterfalls
surrounded by silent deer and shadows with quiet watchful eyes, the blankets turned to mud
shelters for fears forgotten and other assorted tombs of old egos, wooden bombs, blasted refuge

She was of all and infinity particle, a human creation and the wave transcendent at the same time
in those meanderings, no one spoke, no one needed to or dared to, because justice kept tally
she lived there and here and could not be held down or stopped from the seeing of your life
with ancient talons she scratched out the score and placed it in a box of eyes and faded years
parchments of words crossed out in yellow as the day died and was reborn anew in the one dawn

Her hut of jutting sticks was decorated in burnished gold with feathers and scarabs, for a host
and there were stone paths, all leading to a dark cavern filled with fiery bits of plastic in blue
a cathedral whose floor glittered in jagged teal and blonde, whites pearl flashes under the ice
a space decorated in deaths amoral zeal, cursing the bride’s whim with kisses of reciprocal dust
politicians and soldiers that knew better but now sighed forever in the bleached bones of duty

She cursed and screamed to the expanding dark, talons ripping away the edge of a lost cause
being true to one’s own soul a sea of hard paper waving anyway in cyclical desperation, let go
it punctured their hearts and thought spilled animals and ran into the eyes of embarrassment
and so she tore out those eyes and was natural and belonged everywhere and had no mercy
a bird in a harpy’s mask, in a suit of Anubis, painted like the killer clown, weighing your love

Blood like oil ran over rock and spilled into the pure water, spreading like hate and killing life
while they smile and chat and pretend all is well, it stared out into the inevitable grey roads
coal black smoke ended the days of fairy mushrooms and fog and rain, the moss that whispers
your body is nothing to them protected behind their guns and they spit into our faces as we die
flapping her wings in broad quiet strokes she watched above him, into the ocean she would fly 

No time no earth no matter she would look down into the mind and through the little houses
a sphere like a grand piano held in her weird white hands, sounding of black sails filled by wind
curses of the blessed and kind beat of loves drum, granite beach rocks talk to the sea spray foam
Demeter’s stable promise broken by human greed, a shield made by tongues of fear and slavery
and the great bird named Justice worked in the seams of nothing and no space unfilled by light

Shadow take me down with you for the last time, for the last time
can you hear me, oh god, adhering to these last and invisible laws, for you alone
slowing down to the sway and tumble of the long dying mathematical spiral?

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