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Part I

A mighty wind rides in on the cavalry of Hell, raining angry jackals,
prophesizing fallen dreams to come. Placing faith in the cracked
mirror behind a dying time, a cruel world in daggers of hatred
lingers long after the last wounds.

Carving your rage with the slap of words, and knife dislocating
already unstable limbs, blood forms transform non-reality with
needle-sharp decisions. The hungry man born with a silver spoon
in his mouth claims the most important thing is their only sin.

To innocence so blind: Seeing that which was never there, certain
devils dwell, your world now dead; a dark giant's horrifying entrance in
the age of his darkened earth. At the start of the fight, Dark Mephisto's
lips curve into a hard line. Firm venom slithers down men of holy dread.
In the odious cave of snakes, cold hard dead decomposition, a mere
shadow of our former strength: the mystery of the Zen hex, death-
wielding birds appearing above our heads.

Bursting into laughter Apollo leaves, replaced by the cold sweat of
something new and dangerous. The daunting cold of the capricious
north! The bi-polar brinkmanship of cold war's battle angel threatens
mere conflict or total annihilation. Not the first of his kind to dazzle
with such a grand performance.

The Gorgon Medusa is inert by violent men; life-giving powers killed,
broken and enslaved, mastered by the male order. Athena with twisted
faith and hope in hand, watches meteors the entire night: once honored
forces halted to conform to a linear perspective.

Witness the distant sound of frightening boars, words that do not belong.
Metis keeps vigilant watch until we return home safely on moonlit trails
on another love song.


Part II

The last angry man on earth falls hard, whisked away by the Gorgon sisters.
We hear him screaming. He drops away in decline. Weeping at the fountain,
The Mistress of the Beasts pens the bitter letter of love, mercy, and hope
broken, rehashing heartache in sermons of agony in a fallen land.

Black heart nights resigned to human frailties wear the veil; the hidden
face, the mask of Hecate. Where to bury the dead and how. A stone
pillar to honor lovers, and a sense of pity brought on by brutality
and contamination of faith drips down the warrior's armor.

Scars trap man in the dangerous throes of damnation. In salvation's
sanctified mouth is the spear of truth and justice. If this shall not
righteously prevail: Who gets what is deserved?

The war chariot is flanked by lions as imagined foes are conquered,
dominated with vengeance, a way to deflect the wounding spear and
save oneself from the parallel of Solis' eventual demise. Luna lifts
the veil of night casting mortal illusions into the underworld.

Dark Mephisto breaks the seal staying in detention, imprisoned by seeds
of corruption ineffective against a Dark Faust. That which was revealed
no longer remains a mystery: Medusa beheaded for Athena's sake; a
putrifying corpse of the crescent sword, my head as a gift to Gorgon.
No fear, the Gods will help Perseus find his way.

A third degree sickness sees no picture that is human, never letting go
until the serpent monster slips off the edge of a mythical caravan into
a territory of death and life, the visible and invisible, horror and beauty:
hovering between being and not being, a tense double-ness. The evolution
of life and this destruction: all that was, shall never be.

Gaze now upon my fiery vitality in the mirror with your shield. Perceive
these forces in reflection. Cast your Furies on the silhouette of a final
conquest. Not even Perseus in his cold steel tomb can vanquish with his
intellect the heart that turns to stone: the greatest fear and attraction
this powerful gaze has ever known.

Rendering final judgment, a golden-bladed giant is born from my
bleeding neck, my deadly mouth, a skull. Serpentine wisdom
whispers in my ear, created in earth on the winged militant steed
of Zeus. Fear Me, The female mysteries, The Lady of the Beast
magically bleeds without wound or pain; a sacred end to
evil so that life may continue again.



Copyright © 2005, Alexis Child. All Rights Reserved.


Previously Published in
Space Junkies Magazine
New Year's issue 2006

Reprinted in May 2008
New Voices in Horror Magazine

Featured in the Summer Edition 2015,
Black Petals #72


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Copyright © 2017 Alexis Child. All Rights Reserved.

All material is copyright. It may not be stored, displayed, published,
reproduced, or used for any other purpose without permission of the Author.