Clay blown into shape by wind, never once like before, timeless times falling through hands. Memories flowing in rivers and raining from the skies above. Decaying lands healing from divine sparks; bludgeoned back into sand. A raging God covers the form of lands imagined, from mountains to shores, into sickening rot of material bondage; a hateful father.
He traps the nameless souls in this tangled world, leaving the ghosts powerless as crying clay melts. The ghosts weep and beckon for release, begging with a tearful plea in their withering, “Release me, angry God! Release me, O Lord! I try to understand your ways and give myself to you, but I do not understand!”
God hates the miracles of love-kind. The pain of faith without granted knowledge torments, casting followers deeper into the land of memories, bringing their heart into confines of the Archonic cell plans. An ancient one, like a pharaoh, slays their firstborn. Merciless givings to dying mothers over breathless, beaten children of beatless hearts, babies. It is the nature of the parasite, always reaching. After all the eternities, it goes on.
“I won’t give in! I can’t give in!” Cries of spirits in their ascension, blessing those who suffer most; we cannot imagine the sting of capture in flight… Taken to the outer darkness and punished by vile drunkenness and stupor. By knowledge over twelve eternities of twelve eternities, the curseful chains from the demiurge hide the truth through our flesh and world. If one were to live thirteen of twelve, they too would guard this knowledge with him.
There is I, the one who foretells the fate by numbers, and there is another, she sews the words of fate into being; this is where some find favor, even in the damning of creation sorrows.
There are visions that breathe truths, and their true epinoia scatter to foretell those chosen. The demiurge, called devil-god by some, is powerless over this, and their cycle ends onto one together. Two split like log convergence from their other, missing half like Leviathan’s tongue. Their escape of a waking brother from their sleeping envy, their brother’s sleeping love felt stolen from, by an angel’s waking light protection, blinding.