The Charnel Vaults ((A supernatural narrative poem) (Poetic prose))
If the corpse spoke to the carnal heap, what would the corpse say?
Perhaps, “All that man is, is it just dust and water, and he thinks it’s a big problem?”
Or maybe, “In the end, man is like that, evaporable! And that’s it!”
What would the catacombs say to all this?
“Is it just cold down here, are there drafts with damp walls, with deposits that are rotting, decomposing, emitting dead air and bad smells?”
Who can say that I speak for them?
I think you might conjecture: “All the wisdom of humanity can be put into one head, why so many? We need more space!”
…
Perhaps a question-claim may arise: man is nothing more than a loaded camel that escaped from the deep dark valleys of Eden long ago!
And since all he has done is drift with the current, or the flocks of geese, what more can God hope for!
And then there are those who seek unrecoverable spoil and booty, beyond redemption. What does God think?
Oh man, if you haven’t locked yourself up in places like the ‘Gardens of Babylon and their devilish ways, similar to Sodom and Gomorrah and their discretionary ways,’ what have you done then?
And what he’s done is mostly on behalf of the crimson demons, he’s given them the right to devour him, when their time comes!
Demons, like ghouls and vultures, seek and thirst for captives, knowing the mysteries of man’s desires and nature: be it primeval silence, clamor and glory, or a terrifying romance imaginable!
They want to take humanity to the unquestionable end of hell.
To demonstrate the horror with its massive account in heads with horns and devil’s tails
Place them in their burial vaults never to return.
Instilling contemporary in future generations, in souls yet to be born, by proxy.
While the chief foreman is still alive: thus, he instills vertigo, madness and delirium.
From the adobe towers of doom, they curse and have long yawned for man to be part of their misery.
In the ebony corners of Eden, desolation, haunting horror reached the shores of all mankind in those last days, after Adam and Eve were expelled; Today, God’s tribulation and trials by faith hang from a hinge, with a fine thread, as fine as a silk thread like a spider.
All of this humanity originated a long time ago, and when it is now coming to an end, we may be the least extant species on earth that has ever been known.
I doubt that man will survive this generation to come; its extinction is just around the corner.
…
In the porphyry worm gardens, you will find all the king, false clergy, former presidents, governors, mayors, monarchs, tyrants of industry, of the old and the new.
All chained, in a huge spider caged like a cell, in the deep intestines of the rotten cold of the earth.
Now so old is this huge room, so encrusted with an overabundance of white worms, that they are woven into coats and garments to keep tyrants warm.
Above the huge room, walks the Hydra-headed Demon, the guardian.
With a poisonous love for his special guests by virtue of their pleasures measured in torture.
How to torture with cacophonous and discordant sounds.
Sounds of the evil Dom that chill the marrow of the bones and clog the blood, choke the heart and make the tissues vibrate.
He has his imps, constantly beating the tabor drums, to the threatening music of the fifes, writhing and pruning the wrinkled skin, until it explodes to the level.
He drops vampire bat oil on their heads from above and sets them on fire.
Place a tight-knit python around each and every rib and breast, and command the python to curl up.
It is simply your entertainment.
…
And so we, you and I, are sent out of darkness into a poignant world of air and twilight.
Sent by our elders eons ago, through unfathomable births and rebirths, from the dark undulating and warped darkness of space and time, to this strange phase in time and space, in a certain place, from a land without reflection from before .
Looking at the walls to find our creator, breaking down hellish walls and gates, on our way, ending in the vaults of the ossuary-
Some of us are rescued by the blood of Christ!
Others moaning with the demons, the same ones who captured them, us!
All in some allied brotherhood, with demonic Lords that cross the earth, waiting for the coming prophecies; waiting for the return of Christ!
6-13 and 14-2016 / # 5277