The Tale of River
By. D.E. Wilson
For
D.M.
The Raging Blue Sentinel surges forward with the strength of ages.
Might is shown by all that lays motionless in the path he had tread.
His reputation precedes as all before him quake at bold bellowing.
He crushes all he encounters except for those wise enough to live within his folds.
Yet for all his prowess one must see his childhood to comprehend his humble origin.
He cannot resist being both mighty and meek.
His father, the mountain, sturdy, strong, and steadfast.
His mother, the spirit of ice and snow who can be malleable or malevolent, whenever she so chooses.
Mother ice places herself upon father mountain and great, grandfather Sun rises over father mountain and thus River is created.
By the tiny droplets of mother ice falling down the face of Earth's protrusion.
To his feet, and cousin Valley below who gives of himself to River so that both might prosper.
River is an impetuous youth however and as all impetuous youths he runs forward foolishly.
Only after he has aged many seasons does realization come that his role is to give, not to take.
Upon maturity he feeds all manner of living thing.
To those who can only breath of him he gives himself and all contained therein.
To those who make their dwelling in cousin valley he gives what abundance they can obtain from his shimmering hide.
To grandfather sun, as a tribute of his birth, he gives of his very essence to the old one who shines over his father.
Just as all grandfathers though he cannot keep the gift and sends brother cloud as messenger to return River his tribute.
Brother cloud rains upon cousin valley, brother River, mother ice , and father mountain,
and in this way ,all returns to origin.
Oasis
By. D.E. Wilson
Fragrant
totems of unpretentious delight
Their ever subtle shields falling
to the green
Continually grasping at their lofty goal
The
stately earthen toned milieu
Acts as canvas to the carnival of
hue
While a jade halo oversees the ceaseless fête
Towering
blown blades surround all
The culprit of their plight
Making
his way through as though by invitation
An ocean of acquiescent
emerald spears
Yielding to the desire of their obscure
master
While the eyes of azure perceive every motion
Their
rarely sated maws preparing to
Lengthen a ring of continuation
All on this plane are concurring philosophers
Every facet of
their existence expressing a solitary notion
Variety is indeed
the spice of life
But simplicity is life’s essence
Goddess of the Moonless Night
By. D.E. Wilson
(For the pleasure of the true Bandia.)
The celestial representative contemplates the substantial plane that lies beyond.
Portal’s of the earths sheathing outwardly perceive all, and inwardly savoring the visage.
Her namesake winds along the great expanse of unimpeded living desolation.
Satisfying her gaze as sun-bane caresses all.
The mortal that is I can but gaze upon ascended virtue, awestruck.
A perch exalted, a desire never to be realized.
Solace and resignation I find in regarding her lofty form.
A lifeblood’s pulsing sated by those soul enveloping gates.
Yet though fantasy is the sole reality visceral cannot cease engaging astral.
A flow of earthen locks progressing gradually down curvatures perfect spheres would envy.
From a nose noble and proud, to a maw that a man would forfeit his very soul to indulge in if for but a moment.
A chin, nay an entire countenance that could have only been created by a sculptor of the gods as such perfection cannot be seen outside of marble.
I, foolish and unworthy can no longer exist without my one desire.
If the entire purpose of existence is to cease with bliss then few will end as this fool.
The arduous ascension to both ecstasy and doom holds no more challenge to this form.
Feeling true life and true demise, but only acknowledging the first I reach the summit and spy the feet of Venus.
In a single swift movement simplicity pulls himself to divine complexity and steals away his existences purpose and his existences conclusion.
A simple kiss upon the lips of the Goddess who resides in the Moonless Night followed by falling to knees in preparation of finality.
It does not come and all that is felt is the goddess herself falling to knees and returning a stolen caress.
Night Goddesses do indeed see all created in their element, especially love.
Dream Of The Fallen
(An excerpt from the book “Epoch of Three Dragons-Alpha)
By. W.S. Leonid
Within, glimpses and apparitions cloud the entirety as passing through the center of a mind at the velocity of vision. Images of all action throughout the vastness of being come to the flesh of the conscious without the over, increasing entropy to the summit of insanity. There the single sentient lies on the verge of crevicing with all such knowledge, experience, occurrence. The fulminations, bloodletting, births, deaths, emotions, thoughts, of an infinite integer of entities.
The blackened shrill of the trillions now coalesce upon the heavens pressed until The bedlam, the utter lightless chaos of an immutable immortal vastness crushes into singularity. The edge, the precipice of pure hysteria approaches from the north. All ceases. The sensation of drift in ether passes entropy entrancement as sight returns. Sight offers no cessation of fantastical sensation. That to face surpasses that left behind in ostentatiousness.
Such majestic shields that demand the fealty of the kneel with no protest. The striking of awe delays presence of mind until a novel awe is struck. Probing with portals familiar limbs to discover that to which only wyrms are accustomed. The hands once known, now tools of tearing in shades of sapphire and crimson. Scales that lay at a distance decrease range with ferocity. Faculties return themselves unto an enchanted mind being a harbinger beyond the coming anguish.
Into the wit was drawn a shadow of the direst shade. There a beast stood to the nether of coming calamity with whitened hair to his back and upon his maw a long beard of black. Eyes shown darkness as Hades starkest with demonic mincers. Around the fiend of yin and yang stood eight robed and hooded as brood to the abomination. Lo what a fetid look to coerce that if evil existed this was the corporeal incarnation.
Breath of the oncoming bears down upon the stationary as attention is diverted from face to base. Beneath and behind he sights his own nine. Eight of the hooded with one of the center. One who elicits such emotion for an unknown. Within, a longing only from the land of spirit is found. A downed chin rises as a man is to be seen but as the rise begins so ends such a dream.
Two Intertwined
By. D.E. Wilson
They who knew not mortal condition make merry amongst the mythos of man.
Those two, those wondrous two who embody not symmetry but are symmetries emulation.
They are that which cannot be held except by the other in ethereal embrace.
They are that which held all by their grace.
The immutable two of the omni-verse vast from one another do not know fast.
He the masculine rippling silver in shade with mercury river loose and un-braid.
Noble chin and nose with blue eyes of fire, ever alight for his forever desire.
.-*-.
And within his arms she will always be found, she who goddess of goddess be crowned.
Hair as midnight falling to the feet of perfect splendor and likeness which no artisan could hope to render.
Eyes of knowing, and what knowledge lies there.
Lips of fullness that draw him to bear.
The angled beauty of the perfect divine is ever caressed by her lover of night.
And so they do sit above the would be twinkling while of their amour none know an inkling.
As they are all that has been none do know of their love’s beauty.
Yet the shining silver and the ebony night choose to share their love and life‘s light.
.-*-.
By unison they look to the vast empty and choose to bring existence to all that is seen.
And so they embrace as never before feeling elation from the others core.
Silver spinning with ebony grandness, laughter escaping between every kiss.
Faster and faster they turn amongst the endless black hue until at last it seems one is made of two.
Then as sudden as winter night the spin stops and from between them, light.
From the touch of the lovers two comes first ambiance to luminance-less hue.
The first is far from conclusion as now the heavens explode outwards from their union.
From the midst of that grandest of affection comes what stretches above in all direction.
From the mass that is their indistinguishable being flow stars, galaxies, suns and all that is worth seeing.
All is touched by their grand exaltation while combined they allow creation.
And what joyous wonders met their sight as were embracing, silver and night.
.-*-.
Now all is done and born is heaven and earth while loving parents admire the birth.
Looking down with undying beam and reflection to that created from perpetual connection.
As proud progenitors they behold the emergence of life and pleased are the sempiternal husband and wife.
They watch the grand basins to oceans filled and while water abates for emerging hills.
A knowing glance from silver to ebony confirms that within their child they must be.
.-*-.
So as the lifeful begin to emerge their antecedent's unite with them, leaving immortality's curse.
Masculine and Fem become the most diminutive of the small in their chosen, grandiose fall.
As the cells single that live in waters profound they twirl one with the other, round and round.
Becoming one and then two again until these short lives eventually end.
Then upwards they return still relishing substance and with each other, even more entranced.
Their return knows not delay as again they return to worlds of night and day.
The silver sentient and his lover of dark revisit oceans hardly stark.
Upon this occasion the form of fish embodies the immortal invasion.
And so they are born and one another they again find, roaming oceans far and wide.
Through coral and crevice the immortals circle and spin, in love as much without flesh, though within.
Over and over they bathe amongst their progeny until time for return to eternality.
And so in like manner to how all began, be-finned they create verve once again.
And as the pristine are brought to life against each other the immortals die.
.-*-.
On every planet and under every sun do the enduring continue what has begun.
All things from amoeba to trees with bud do they inhabit continuing their love.
The barrier of sentiency they finally break and with this an entirely new form does their warmth take.
Adoration in human form, with flesh that grows tattered and torn..
With haste and joy do they make amends, for the mortal coils eventual end.
Yet knowing that it will cease, is what makes mortality meaningful before release.
.-*-.
And so they continue on in flesh after flesh, life after life, breath after breath.
The outward is, compared to their natural states, crude, but enjoyed by those whose devotion does not abate .
And to the day you read this and all the ones to be, know that they exist in eternal symmetry.
Perhaps you shall meet them, as they are easy to discover.
Between the lips of every kiss, stand the immortal lovers.
The Morbe’ius Of Amon Isal
I: The Hall
By. D.E. Wilson
Falling. Falling and screaming to blackened environs. Seems to be all that occurs anymore. Ever enveloped in darkness. Vertigo persistent but no longer acknowledged. Falling, Falling. The impact of shattering as stone meets bone. The cry of anguish makes a muted path through every iota of relativity. All the due suffering is inflicted while death does not ask for this dance yet again, to all appearance. Same two paths appear. Eternity in darkness and shadowy immortality, or to the ambiance. Prefer pain to boredom and perhaps death or exit are near luminance. Hardly matters which anymore. Luminosity shines as beacon through raven profoundity of miles. Miles or days, all are the same in what is now temporary haven. Nearing the fluorescence a white marble floor becomes visible.
A narrow alabaster path, a ribbon of warmthless stone is seen while the end is not. To the respective sides of the ivory hued river -static are massive brown columns reaching to a ceiling unseen or non-existent. Their bases cut square and ridged in the classical style. Such obelisks to obscurity are spread out an equivalent distance each perfectly matched to the former. Trek continues as glances to the recesses of obfuscation’s column’s reveal cold entities. Each distinct and of a different being worthy enough to have likeness carved into rock. Roots loco mote as if by instinct, perhaps these journeys have become familiar as they are so hated.
The busts eyes feel as though they follow and stare with murderous intent. A sound from behind. Turning to nothingness. Returning to the path in the correct direction, if there is one. Foot becoming fleet. Another sound splits the silence of marble and naked flesh. Recognized as a voice but dialect not. Frequency of heels touching the cold increases as do the number of voices. Higher and louder, Higher and louder. Stronger and longer. Stronger and longer.
The voices now bounding and dancing off the chilly white. The eyes of sub-zero stone following, mouth’s snarling with contempt and spewing forth words and phrase indecipherable. All does not just reverberate and fill the hall but envelope’s and fills the body, heart and soul of their emanation's would be sepulcher.
Dark
liquid that is hatred flowing into and reaching the brim of it’s
container. Falling to knees, covering sound portals, trying to end
the overwhelming power of all minds concentrated. To the cold fully
and fetally. A very familiar scream joins theirs. The words blur
and constrict. Symphony of utter chaos. A sudden silence. Lights
flicker. One voice more powerful than others combined fills all.
Low and deep, full of that which surrounds.
“CEASSSSEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!” Radiance slips away with the now
malleable marble. Falling, Falling, again. Darkness resumes.
Bastard that is death still does not join. Oh Well. Falling,
Falling.
Copyright ©2008 D.E. Wilson
