Monday, September 20

These electric words x (at the edge of the world) part ii

On the edge of the world again.
Electric words pulsing and rustling under the blood red sky - fade to blue – fade to white.
Behind me the past dims, slides away with the scarlet lie, quivering and born anew.

I look out over the angular abyss; and my father cries from the north; my father cries from the south; my brother prays from the east; to the west there is a voice within the mist. His words are towering cliffs over me and they crumble – falling and never reaching my feet. 
They will fall amongst the mercy - they will fall eternally.

So I must march onwards, grotesquely into the dawn. Shunting, lurching, spraying and flailing into the light. Crawling along the shards that lay in the waste. 
Smiling amongst the murk of an age in the making; an age in the taking.
Skyward I see them, they circle me.
Can you feed me – can you feed me – can you render me in love, in hardship - 

Then a rush comes; the salt. 
A rush comes; the tide. 
A rush comes; my hope on the clouds of the sky.

Then a crash comes; the breath. 
A crash comes; the life. 
A crash comes; the blood from the purest of light.

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