Dreamweaver - age 78
They are on the cusp of the unmaking
Their bodies are black and seething
You can see them
You may help them
Through the patch, the black holes
Of fabrics weave the souls
The void is tied up in rainbows
The ways of humanity show
They are vast but limited
We cannot see, contorted
We can only believe
You can see them
You may help them
Through the patch, the black holes
Of fabrics weave the souls
The void is tied up in rainbows
The ways of humanity show
They are vast but limited
We cannot see, contorted
We can only believe
The pawns of Eve
In the movements of ghosts
Deep and ancient echoes
Beings cocooned
Beings estranged
Beings strangled
In the movements of ghosts
Deep and ancient echoes
Beings cocooned
Beings estranged
Beings strangled
Beings amassed
Rainbows spin on edge
The space-time bondage
Expertly creating form
For this galactic forum
Rainbows spin on edge
The space-time bondage
Expertly creating form
For this galactic forum
The boy god has his compassionate purpose. He sees the strings of the puppets and puppeteers, the masters and slaves that keep these beings busy. His wisdom is setting them free. Some queue patiently for his expert hand while the black hole draws them all to its core. He has to work fast and faster. Being here in the continuum slows him down. He can step outside this universe but then he cannot serve his nature.
Beings freed give him thanks but
they know not what to do next; some pray, others play. Once cut, the newly
reborn flurry about to loosen and release the binds of the ever-grasping
rainbows.
The pace gathers as the multitudes become a visible nebula of white. The boy god has multiplied himself into legions. There are too many strings in this universe and they feed upon the strength of the cloud to gain form. The curses and spells bind faster tighter as the five senses are looped by seven sins of mortality.
The swirl of beings starts to
drift. They begin the deep sleep as all do when they are still in the void. His
legions mutate into powers that exploded with bubbles of consciousness to
protect each being. The centrifugal force is creating its own core and some are
unprepared for the deluge into the collective void.
The force collects the strings and metamorphoses
them into burning stellar balls. White blankets all that remain as the second
wave of orbs rush in to seal the light. We can make diamonds from the same carbon
matter. Transmutation is how they dissolve the precipitous darkness.
Now you remain, frozen in the Mana-mind of the Traya-protector. Powers in sounds and forms will be your guides. A thunderous clap from the boy god dispels all obstacles. It resonates in their hands eternally.
\\ She opens her eyes to the masses before her. Do they know?
