Rise up Children of Chaos.
The learned men that have
brought you forth
from eternal hiding
have given you the mark of the ancestors.
The knowledge
of past representations
has aroused the primordial flame
that for millenia
was but a mere flicker
in the eyes of unjust fallicies.
Behold the world to
which
you are given.
Let not your conscience know
what sorrow brings
to
those who deceive you.
Awaken and join the Children
of the Beast.
Relive
the past tales of glory and passion
that were ours to possess
for time eternal.
Know
that now
the nuance of conceit
must forever be obliterated into the realms
of
decaying evangelists.
Rise forth Oh Children of Chaos
Become itinerate and
mobile
For you were conceived
by the loins of abandonment and greed,
and
planted deep within the wombs
of jealousy and hatred.
Let not the initial light
appear
as a despondent, dying sunset,
hopeless and raging,
dousing the dreams of the
few who remain.
But now, be it a gloriuos sunburst.......
It is the seekers
who possess all.
The cold edge of steel cuts raw
into the lifeblood of blossoming
heroes
awaiting the metamorphosis
of the tired, tattered maggot.
Fantasy
that coccoon builds itself
not With intrinsic pain of backwards Unknown.
When
doubt becomes infinity....
let fate take your soul.
Despondent,
Sacchreligious,
Anti-Social
Characteristics.
His paths converge with Deadly friends,
Parasites..
that
mark the end.
(Response.....no Response?)
I am the master of reality
pursuer
of my destiny
The only truth is Now.
This moment in it's brievity is
ultimately
all I am and
all that there can ever be.
My imagination and harsh projections
no
longer frighten me.
Can you accept this moment?
Do you believe this time?
Are
you playing with ambivalence
the nature of your Mind?
I hear with eyes blinded
I
see with eardrums torn;
conventional abstractions
are extinct and vainly worn.
Are
you grasping at the symbols
that others have produced?
Shunning anxious freedom
and
compliantly seduced.
You're violated by the sanctions
Without question, Without
fight
Discounting self-absorbtion,
another's bulb becomes your guiding Light.
Complascency
is nurtured
in a void that's mass defined;
with strength we have numbers,
with
piece we have Mind.........
Vision is the mirror
of thought.
Stillness
is the cry
of unborn ecstacy.
Freedom is the illusion
of pseudo-strength.
Like
puppets mechanically trodding thru fields
of mistaken individualism,
we scream
for silence.
Please pass the leftovers....
Rise up Children of Chaos,
Behold
the Universe to which
you are Given.
T. Shannon Mapes
copyright 1995
A revelation while traveling through a chemically
induced emotional
psychosis - the mid 1980's