(Subtitle: Armageddon’s Stellar
Doom)
The silence inside the stars, from earth’s vision: men decry to
God’s
wisdom, is not their vision, this is
when God had blinked his eyes,
and the evening stars will
have trembled, no longer in a solitude or rest,
and balance.
This was when all creation
had to face cosmic tides of chaos, in the
heavens.
“How deep is this abyss of
night?” will be asked: when chaos will not rest!
Man will ask and seek, as
the seas ebb and sway, — the oblivious
“Whomever they are in this
deep, Armies of eternal night cold and bold:
those soldiers from the ramparts of some
remote garrison, inside some far-off nebula…why do they approach?”
They seek to storm beyond
the immortal lights of Orion!
They gaze upon the gulfs in the curvatures of time:
they wish to burn, and
they
walk with stellar doom.
These armies, immense, should they not be hidden
from earth, wrath would
they
bring—
Until now, God has made them unforeseen!
And man has only dreamed in dreams of their schemes.
Should dreams become reality, they would create a
battle path of menace
that
would sway irrevocable war—
Wars for a generation—
Armageddon’s stellar doom: a deep blood splash, from
the heavens,
wherein
lies the unbegotten.
How narrow the channel between them and us— they
even now set eyes
upon
our orbit for them; and to them we are but the untrodden dens of
the
cosmic strange… to conquer and enslave!
Lo! The brief yet cunning evil kept in suitable
shape for this gloom filled
day,
prophetic doom, approaches—
Marked by annexed darkness, unstable black matter
and energy, with
thrones
of fire, from some lost destiny, no longer silenced by God’s
Timepiece, thus, the ghostly hours have come,
Orion’s horsehead of light
its
firmamental gloom, belted with suns and showered with chaos
Has seen the earth’s helm, its sublime array, now
comes this heavenly fray
this,
march of menace… an untillable immense!
The whole universe now in high unrest—; in a darker
darkness, where man
has
never been, nor seen, where matter is thick, and as liken to hot magma mass,
where dead stars are swallowed up deep
into is spiral pit of
cosmic
darkness, where once the angelic prison for the unvirtuous seraphim were
imprisoned, no longer are caught in a
fiery quarry, its
endless
maze, swaying in appallingly walls, trying to escape those fatal days — these
cosmic foes, ere, they know their doom filled, as the axles of
earth
knows it can break, if only for a moment, to create a hush so deep… no thing or
bring, would be able to withstand the swift
immeasurable night’s doom—Lo! From the lapse of form!
Lest Elohim’s hand take up man’s fate!
Behold, not even the stellar
strongholds deep in Orion, with their cosmic
besieging armies, and their legionaries,
nor the supreme armies of the deep spiral abyss—whom are but barbaric eyes to
God—should he
interfere, in these not so far-off days,
man would vanish into the haze, the invading flames, of chaos!—
And should not those days be
shortened, all that would be left would be a
cosmic tomb, and the grit of firmamental
gloom!
And I have seen in a vision,
of those not so far-off days: the sun will be
powerless to illume the moon, dwarfed—;
the time of sorrows.
And I heard in those not so
far-off days: denial of this end, this perfect and
final war of: mutate was man’s mind to
this comet’s like blaze, of destruction.
And to them that would not
kneel, were thrown into a fiery mote; into a
encoded doom by the dark messengers, of
gloom.
Now the vision has passed,
all that was to be hidden into the unfathomed
stalls of mystery, will appear tier by
tire, until the very end, is without question!
No:
4430 (July 2, 2014)/ revised and reedited August 26, 2014
