"A Godly Scorn"

I am

Immortal

You say,

And yet, you know nothing.

 

Your feeble mind could never grasp

The eternity of my existence.

Your pitiful veil of retention could never

Hold a candle to what I have seen;

To the influence I hold over your world.

 

Have you seen the birth of time?

 

Have you peered deep into the darkness--

No--further back

Before there was Darkness.

 

Before the first rays of light fell upon the atoms of creation,

You met my eyes and the

Abyss stared back.

 

Back back, down deep--

Delve into the womb of the virgin;

Crack the halo of the Brightest Star.

Can’t you hear your people weep?

 

I am my own supremacy;

 

And yet you try to illuminate me.

Define me.

Categorize eons of circumstances into a

Delusion of understanding.

 

What

Do

You

Know?

 

With barely a whisper of breath,

I could split open the earth and let out the fires of the land.

Water will turn

to

Blood.

I could unleash the very

 

Deepest,

Darkest

Pits of

Hell.

 

Have you ever looked beyond that shine inside the eyes of a child?

Do you remember that boundless energy--those clumsy attempts

Of stammering breaths and shaky knees bending and

Creaking on worn wooden floors.

 

The trumpet echoes across the stars--

Our walls crumbled into pillars of salt.

Visions of serpents,

Whores as wives,

Pole-drilled skulls…

 

Did the good book ever mention us?

 

You will be swallowed whole before

Your pleading lips draw breath.

 

My fury can make the sea boil over

And the sky split

And the ground shake.

 

 

Your very name will be wiped from the

Dust of

Humanity

and

Flesh.

 

And I will

laugh.

 

Hands clasped together, wordless prayers;

Tears woven into beads and tomes thrown against the door.

Take and take, and yet there's always something more.

 

Blood of the purest lambs cannot quench the thirst of this wretched Lazarus.

“Too little, too late,” they cried.

Dogs lick the wounds, and birds feast on flesh;

Surely this is what the Garden meant.

 

Because,

What is your life

To me?

 

What is a fleeting whisper to

The roaring sea?

 

What

Makes

you

Significant

To

Me?

 

That is the reality of our worlds.

 

I am the mountain;

You are the flea.

 

Your world is merely a playground

in an

Eternal

Game

 

And you were never a player.

 

A god never dies,

Its people merely survive.

 

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