The Tide, Part VII

The heart’s war was won—we
emerged from our states like bats
from caves, suspicious of our selves—
our hope of returning to the basalt
shores had been erased by successive
disappointments over aeons, indeed
we despaired of life itself, thinking
ourselves insects or inanimate
machines whose essence would be
lost to the smothering, empty stillness
of the wilderness we had been
afflicted by. Now our existence was
infused with the glittering silver
conspicuousness such as Satan’s
priests had known—we were
enveloped by entirely other an
experience, though perilous still—on
changing tides, away from drowning
islands we met the depths and the
depths in turn expelled their
treasures, though we were famished
for revenge on the sightless, slithering
things, the orcs whose magic was in
their starry houses (they paused for
sea-naps according to their pleasure)
—our earthly eyes were raped
insatiably on account of these
wanton creatures’ fetish for crying
and wailing—and not suffering
enough through material means, our
souls were fixed with hooks and
yokes; we marathoned through
abstract ordeals unfathomable,
something now we recall with vague
distaste about expectations, about
ego, about an ongoing invasion of
their invisible parasitic forms into our
minds, so that who we were and once
were was coloured by their own vain
and inverted beliefs about the
mortals, God’s special creatures—we
were alone in deciphering our
torments and learning the oppressor’s
symbols from them, entirely alone
were it not for our captor angel’s
input here, there at times it seemed
throughout eternity, bespeaking the
tender grace and mercy of a higher
being—God Adonai—whose light we
dreamt of under arctic, deathly and
unendurable winds, and whose shade
we sometimes saw afar amidst our
hours of harvests under some hostile
sun, amidst our sad layman’s
haruspicies, which told us next to
nothing and extended our stay in our
master’s extradimensional prison, our
long fiery trial.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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