Ascending remissions, definitions of the devils wake
Torn down to reveal, the idea of nothingness
Irreplaceable, voids inconclusive to a mere child
Victim, if not by fury, but in points of retrospections
Visions unsettling in luke-warm waters
Of distant geysers, opening at the bottom,
Sinking to another world
Much darker, unimaginable,
With the stench of rotting angels,
Soaked in the tears of Christ,
And the poor believers, also seething in decay
-
Eyes bewildered, inconspicuous, tending to infinite shock
Anxiety running through the veins
The spine, the fine boundaries of the mind
Uncertain of death, fate, reality and illusion
When the conceptions cease to be distinguished
-
A new Dawn, or so they’ve heard before,
But not in the closest proximity to this world
To this burning sea of torment
Scorching souls looking up for a savior
Or a sign that someone cares
Not knowing, all along,
He is the one who has sent them there...
-- -- --
Copyright © Juan Antonìo Thomas, 2004