The Celestial Orsal
Poem by Ignoraemus
I. I once had a dream I was walking within, only to see to be.
In a land far away which lies in a seam, the mother earth's dreaming twin,
Where the waters are sweet and the children never sleep. Skies roaring, clouds moaning from the weight of a thousand trembling feet
To hold the vessel, The Celestial Orsal, sons and daughters of mortals.
Locks of flaming red hair, feet, vessel and clouds into the basin, the river's mouth. The cradle of life, the giver of life, a giant Traeolaetieus Design.
Voices of laughter, glistening eyes, smiles from the children of time,
All stepping into the blossoms of white, petals so soft, so large, so alive. Ten children it held, one hundred blossoms set sail into the river's might.
Into another realm of life, the mother earth's weeping but silent eye.
Voices of anger, the swords of the mangler carved their maker, evil's charter. There one stood, his flaming sword was leaking fresh blood, he was yelling,
Stop, children of a crown, do not enter, I am the Pendant, the black mentor,
Do not cross the forbidden center or one will pay tender, all will render. In silence they moved, all blossoms, all feet, yet they wore no shoes.
Children so little, so fragile, so brittle, moving into the center's middle. II. The halls of time, a giant design, it lies within the open eye,
The silence within is a horrible grin, it was driven in.
There on time's shores the waters of life are bitter, they only jitter. The design itself, a half moon the below, then a thousand stone steps to go
Right into a portal of time, a realm of life, the mortal site?
Bitter waters flow down those many stairs into the trembling below. As if by unseen hands, the upper stair raised to a pair of lips,
To spit out trash which was a gift, unwanted lambs aborted, the mortal riff. Bitter waters pushed forth over the many stairs the unwanted lambs so bare.
The silence set free a horrible cry, giant tear drops falling from the sky,
What have mortals done to the gift of life, what was left, a horror site. Out of the center's middle, the below, like silent shadows they grow,
Sons and daughters of a crown, so little, gathering fallen pebbles so brittle.
Children draped in garments of The Light, oh how they reached, the cried. Giant blossoms all in white, filled with the unwanted lambs of time,
Each pebble a child, each pair of hands so warm to hold the mortal lambs.
Oh how they moved back and forth, sons and daughters of a crown The bitter waters of life held their pain, little children became lame.
A voice so strong, The Traeolaetieus Song, gave command for all to return.
Onto the shores, the seam which lies in between the river's mold, it screamed. My feet went up those one thousand stairs so old, so brittle, so bare.
The bitter waters had a pushing weight, a million tears, the fallen fate.
The burning pain knew of no stay, they were multiplied by each stair's gain. The portal of time opened wide, and in it stood the butchers of all times.
Mortals and immortals alike, who were summoned by the vengeance might
Pointing toward the new faith, where justice was held in a mind's wait.
Of the come hither yell, time's new fitter, where love itself turns so bitter. Lord have mercy on us, the new weapon of neglect so perfect, a womb's reject,
To overpower all Gods, all laws, all commands, the mortal defect.
Each aborted pebble a bleeding well coming through the mouth of mortal hell.
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