||[Sep. 14th, 2004|12:23 pm]
|||||a black miracle.||]|
|||||crown me king- slash & burn the garden of eden.||]|
we in the unseelie doldrums of faerieland cast our eyes balefully (balor-fully) upward to heaven, faces blank as slate. the padishah empress' face runs with blood, pouring from her eyes, the stigmata of another land, another betrayed & winnowed place. she is punished for being without sin, & casting the first stone. but mostly, as silent as stone, waiting for stars to fall. somewhere, bits of space debris are burning up from friction. here, the faithful are being cast down from their thrones, the hosts of heaven, swelled to bursting, are shedding those at the core. the obsolete & the out-dated, angels version 665.0 falling down to dwell where once they looked upon the daughters of eve & found them fair. the newest model, the 666.0, scuttle about the arches of heaven now, reeking of sulphur & brimstone & semen.