From the Hyperborean Mythos
(In Long line, Narrative Poetic
prose)
Lo! I know not, ere, where these
visions came from: perchance, in the deep ebony eldritch scrolls of space and
time, into my mind—
Perhaps tossed out of God’s archives,
kept in his storeroom of infinite finalities, yet to be,
to give to you during these sarcophagus end times!
Perchance, out of some pocket once
hidden in a gravitational wave.
Who’s to say?
Only God!
Written long ago on old scrolls by
old prophets who have once lived and amalgamated and recorded, times yet to be,
these were in part, my visions but presented for today.
And here we are living them.
And its name I have learned, from
above the invisible stars, being: Wormwood.
Meaning: ebony portals will be
opened, and a nocturnal age is just ahead.
From barbarous times I was brought
back to unknown lands, and man’s devious anomalous ways, to a sea of fire, and
a sea of doom, to a ferruginous period, of unceasing querulousness, palpable
and anomalousness; where eidolons mascaraed as humans.
They’re all among us: sobbing,
whispering, and shouting, in multitudinous mutterings, in tumults, all have I
seen in visions.
Learned from demons, and archangels:
a vision, a word, a syllable, I have put them all together, I have laminated
them, carved them in sandalwood and ivory, in ebony teakwood!
I loathe to speak of this land and by
what name shall I call it? Babel?
And by what name do we know it?
Alias, America?
Nay, it is she, the one forevermore
the world seeks to destroy!
Many call her behind her back: lamia!
Greater than Rome, Greater than
Greece in their memorable years, now the world scratches at her garments’ hem:
they are not her friend!
I’ve seen it all unraveling: she was
mingled in dust.
And the world around her carried on
as if nothing was wrong, as in a royal pageant.
She was the stranger, and I heard a
voice ask: “Where goest though?”
And she answered not, her brow down,
darkened by her own unscrupulous demonic like potentates, who think they drink
the ichor of the gods.
Did not her forefather’s give her an
ominous dirge, to this malefic?
That men can be inhabited by
coadjutant demon?
While building world globalism.
That freedom is an illusion?
And all will be accountable for her
sins?
#5260/6-5-2016/ Reedited
7-31-2016
