Qiblator
Qiblator
Atonement empties the golden goblet, late flowers bloom
The hour has escaped me, like footsteps lost in silent gloom
An Eagle to the East, a bloody beak full of lost chances
A Bull to the West, charging the past in future dances
Around me the compass spins out of control, Horus winks
If I didn’t know better I’d say I was in Atlantis on the day it sinks
A Lion to the South, claws pinning a young virgin nude
A Dog to the North, howling at the moon in copulating mood
I am not the Master of Wonders, I have not built the Seven Spheres
I am not the fruit of light filled wisdom, I am not a bowl of fears
Moses speaks to me through the ages, mankind’s first guide
The sun – Aton like in atonement shines, we cannot hide
The tomb stands ready for all of us, Christ himself lay there too
Speak then the words of the Arcane, known now by so very few
The light of the heart spills onto the altar at sacrifice
My chest is wide open, the knife drips analgesic lies
I’ve switched pens to render the taste in my mouth sweet
But my ears are screaming at the sound of approaching feet
Here then the voices of the past comingle with the now
The future rides galloping on a mad frothing cow
Poison permeates the air, water smells of putrid ooze
Fire burns without mercy, books fuel it with news
And the earth trembles as an uncertain wisdom spreads
Filling with corpses humanity’s restful warm beds
Wake then to the partnership we have with death
She lowers her veil, strips her lace and silk, her breath…
…spreads like an Avalon mist encompassing the whole land
And her eyes are hollow, Clepsydras with flowing sand
And now comes the hour of our machine existence
To those who will fail, and those who will offer Résistance
A mighty cheer of the goblet of atonement I raise
May the good die young, and may the old mend their ways.
September 25, 2012