Death Of An Empire –

East of Eden lies a city sprawling to the moon-soaked shores of Mariana.

Bound there within its deepest chamber calls the keeper of arcana.

Her chorus rises above horizons through billows heralding oblivion;

Looming clouds of ash in dim-lit skies growing darker than obsidian.

On granite walls they cast a past, ever gone, but grasped for with perpetual persistence,

And take form in futures, never here, enshrouding all that is; existence.

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Yet while before us sordid shadows rage against the dying of the night,

Beyond these hollow halls her ancient song foretells a harbinger of light.

It quakes apart her prison coffer and impels her revelation from the deep,

As lightning pealing from her gaze these words emblazon upon memory to keep:

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0        Within the jaws of Ouroboros a gilded army takes its place amongst the heavens.

4.       Undefiled by depravity or hate they wield not shield nor weapon.

0        Not sharpened steel, and yet the structures of mankind they lay to waste.

4.       Not with taste to kill, but that which stands opposed shall be consumed with haste.

2        Thus as tongues of torrid flame lick up straw and brick without resistance,

1        Leo slouches down from heaven’s reign, and conflagration razes in the distance;

6        All upon this great sphere lain falls fast away from everything to nothing,

2        And a once-vast empire built in fear is subsumed within an ocean of becoming.

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Poem: Written outside of Armenia, Colombia / Matthew Burton
Featured Image: Ancient of Days / William Blake