1999 CE

Grifas

The Apolytrosis

I: The Birth

And so, in closing, allow me to begin once more:
The Birth, the primal labyrinth of the stars
born of great disaster in a great explosion.
All the worlds, all the energy, lost
spinning headlong into the vortex,
the very ebon depths of Time.
Here we have the nucleus of color,
the only thing able to bring Light:
Darkness; root, still, conspiring.

What jumps rancid and claiming
from the darkest clouds at night?
Fierce blasts of anger: Light.
It may be the energy, yet it is
Darkness whence it came.

II: The Light

Labor love and lost looking, not understanding
the vision before them, cowering, afraid,
eyes covered, not even glancing
between their fingers; they blinded themselves.

No comprehension. No knowledge.
No desire. No ambition.
Labor love and lost looking, never finding,
always naming.

III: Ĉons of Misgivings

I seek that which is to be.
Through tired Light and harried Darkness
I must trundle past the images thrown up
before me to misguide, conceal,
abominate, justify, but never to answer,
"Why?"
This we all must do.

After surviving ĉons of misgivings of brutal appeasement
now we must take the fingers from our eyes and see
this Light directly: This knowledge, this dream,
this fascination which has had countless names,
dwelled in endless homes, palaces,
kings, and messiahs. Here must end
the mystery, the quest, the eldest
knowledge oft repeated:
"Out of Darkness cometh Light."

IV: Mathematics

The two begat the third:
The Mother, the Father, and the Child, endless
in all things. The Perdition.

Unity is the Mind, without chemicals;
the Mind is the Key in its Perfection,
else all is removed from the destination,
turned outward into a visible world so fascinating
it betrays. When you awake,
you sleep still: Truth to virtue,
promises to lies.

V: The Purpose

Darkness is the Wisdom that begat the Light.
I must share my tale, for one cannot truly be known
without the other.

There are forces at work --
and who are you? And what are your companions?
Darkness, the Mother, creating, penetrated
by Her Light, the Father. Do not confuse.

Alfrair, Alfrair
Tijair, Tijoe

VI: Obsidian Pleasure

The knowledge of obsidian pleasure:
As each fell ocean churned over a new mountain,
so must each of us rely.

All about is a fog, amorphous
secrets and a place to spread your wings.
We are here, and to here we shall return,
steading slowly westward, ever toward the gloaming.
We but mar the surface; it rolls upon
to reclaim us so, leaving behind a few tattered structures.

We must leave our home intact:
We but hasten the cycle. All the while everywhere
cries; the need to cleanse.

We must become air, the very breath,
the vehicle of the stars; this that is
around us, never-ending:
The general of all Life that passes
between its great, gentle fingers
pushes us to grandeur.

II: Dreaming

Now, also, dreaming:
This is all a dream, a vision of vast blackness,
invisible air, fire, and life.

Here is Infinity, a confusion of sorts.
It is you; it is yours.

We are but Lights in the Darkness.
Let us burn now, for to the Darkness
we must return.

Alfrair, Alfrair
Tijair, Tijoe

The Fire of God