We play this wretched music,
For him, these ancient songs of praise fall from our chapped lips
Programmed to give mechanical messages as our vocal chords strain
As our once-human hearts stop to hum
As our still-human minds numb
As our skin cracks and bodies dry up
And even our thoughts cease to be ours alone
But become his too
And his become ours
Small minds invaded with painful divinity
And we pray
We pray
We pray
WE PRAY for death
But no.
We are kept alive by a sickly sweet elixir of love and poison
Flowing through our veins
Like liquid gold
Keeping out one evil but inserting another
Because we aren't really alive- we are his instruments
His machines,
Condemned to play one song for the rest of our deaths.
We live in heaven
The place where everything is right
The place where everything stops
Nothing ages
Nothing grows
Nothing changes or moves forward
Because heaven is no place for the righteous to retire when they die;
This beauty comes with a price:
It is crafted from waning spirits trapped in stone of death that,
From the moment they stepped through these golden gates,
Were frozen
Into suspended animation
Becoming the foundation
Of this prison.
God wanders through Eden where everything has turned to dust.
The river has dried up.
The garden is a forest of withered brown thorns
But the tree, the tree bearing the forbidden fruit
Stands healthy and bold in the wasteland
He remembers the infamous 'original sin' that gave man knowledge
Knowledge is power
Perhaps more powerful than him
And anything more powerful than him must be wrong
He tries to sigh but cannot because he has no breath
Like us
He gave up mortal form to become everything that is was and will be
He knows Asriel's war is coming
He knows he will lose.
And when he does, we will no longer be his puppets
Our stings will unravel and fray into nothingness
We will unravel into nothingness
And be at peace.
Soon.
~an original~
YOU ARE READING
hollow
PoetryI don't know what this is. It's poems that I have written. It's poems that I didn't write. It's old poems. It's new poems. It's happy poems. It's sad poems... Actually, just mainly sad poems.
