Mirrors and Smoke

Sol Rex Dormit, et Mater Respondet

by Amy Beauchamp

Take heed, above all things for what is to follow,

as the Sol Rex retracts his warmth.

Do you see how water curls in the sky?

Building…building, constant mist.

Do you hear the winds increasingly harsh from the North?

Howling like packs of rabid dogs and signaling to their kind.

Mater now heaves and trembles anew,

see how her belly blows with anger spewing.

Whilst cold death the sister, roils cross skin and bone,

her march creeps not overtly,

her march creeps not overtly.

Yet with tentacles and teeth to stab and hook,

bile brines death from inside,

Her madean sacred nurtures clamoring blooms

now withering quickly on vine…

For it was told through times aplenty,

with eyes wide-shut they laughed,

did not see roads laid out so plainly,

only now with closed-eyes are becoming slowly wide-awake.

Do you see it now? Look not closely at the facade that crumbles,

yet step back, and then again until the mind can follow not one...

but seven the opposite of virtues, to the few nobility on high,

each serving the fallen master, a propagated reality of the most unkind.

Fear not my brethren, these chains of beautified oppression fear not,

for life brings death, and death brings life, and the spiral carries on.

We’ve seen this dance before and before,

Selfish commands of infants are only so when followed,

Power exclusive itself always consumes,

for those dining on the souls of others, find their own swallowed whole in the end.