Monday, May 9, 2016

Prometheus Unending

You think yourself a god among men
That walks unchallenged on the fertile dirt of the one true creator
If they call you monster or spawn of Samael
What womb do I call my own?

Under a bruised horizon with open sores
That expels the tears of Heaven’s gate
I am reborn by flash of light
You scream of life and I arise.

At the first illumination of morning
I feel first touch
I taste first taste
I smell first smell.

These senses that form
Rushed through my veins unfamiliar
In context of cortex
I think only of future engagements, never what has been.

A single gaze upon your handiwork
Of yellowed eyes and frightful height
Of translucent skin and hideous feature
Causes you: my father; my mother; my teacher; my friend to flee.

Yellowed eyes find solace in yellowed pages
Of classic literature both fresh and aged
As I wait for the moment in my new life
To confront you.

You call me son
I call you father
God calls you Victor Frankenstein
God calls me your creation.