Indeterminable rumblings from the center of the sphere shook the watcher from his reverie.
The thief, time, was there overthrown and the weight of his waste disclosed, along with the true visage of the world.
Searing rays slithered from Ra’s incessant maw, gnawing the surface of a galaxial tomb; bleaching bone and peeling skin. Bacterial-skittering buried deep within the ambling mounds of electric meat. Viruses feeding upon the feaster. Parasite parasitizing the parasite which parasitizes the host. Every corpse, a mausoleum. Cities within vesicles and a great and invariable war beyond the tumbling drops of mildew which stain’d the willfully ignorant eye.
A countless constellation of savagery beyond the sensorium of the sapient.
He spied worshipers gathering about the splendid horrors unveiled, to bewail the deer, gutted and strung.
“Praise the horns and damn he who takes them.”
So they sang, even as they severed their babes from their fleshy beds, smiling toothy rhuem at the liberation of the act. Chasing imagined idylls, thought long-discarded, intangible as the demons which the shamans of old warded with smoke and chant, whose appetites the sorcerers sated with sacrifice upon the bloody altar of the earth, offering up the hearts of their kin to the worms and their brains to the pitiless thorns.
Still the idyll eluded them.
Then a rumbling. Earth shatters and shakes. Pistons shear and steam hisses with the intensity of a thousand mythic wurms.
Metal wakes with emnity and roughshod runs incarnadine.
/////Logos Literature 