Amidst the ruins of an age dome
‘tween the grossest lordship of shapes most atrocious
and the boundless no-thing pre times immemorial,
let the ghastly, dreadful bump in the day
of insidious accounts in display
rot away and be cleansed in the pyre of black flames
which underlie the nature of supposed verity.
At the crossroads,
now awaken the symbolic coiler of Abyssinian currents,
anticipating skilful will and word and concept spoken.
At the crossroads,
now blink and consolidate the vortex of sight in divine right
with the longing beating heart which has bled and wept in dire light.
Awaken, beloved, and sever the surrogate hand
of petty and presumptuous regard.
Awaken now and behold thyself with fresh insight.
~*~
Will you rise
or will you cave into
the oblivious daytime night?
