Resident Artist 4: God by Tamara Lakomy No. 4



God by Tamara Lakomy No. 4

They sang the tune of every day, the voice of monotony
They hailed the soldiers of the skies, rising sun of acrimony
Suspended in the heavens, the thurible of the deity’s beckoning
As a pendulum circling the globe with the perfume of reckoning
The human animal’s bonds shake, forever blind to their plight
Never tasting the shame of their fall nor the failure of their blight
As a spring that once promised wealth and prosperous growth divine
Of enlightenment of the mind that as a tarnished lamp does shine
Speak for the winds that howl your name, Masterful deity beyond the cloud
For mortals have conquered not their ignorance, death seeking its shroud
And the power of numbers and letters fall from their gilded seats of grace
As sacrilegious demons vampiric thrive upon the knowledge they debase
I felt the tremble in the folds of the firmament, the crease of filmy wings
The sunray that eluded from the leaping tears of the faraway angelic kings
I felt the light passing through shadow its reach as light as a flower’s breath
Inexorably evanescent, as striking as the finality of death
If my heart is made to break, then the strings were made to tear long before
I captivated in my imperfect eyes the glimpse of beyond that mystery’ door
Was that the light bearer that passes by, with earth that beams in summoning joy
Or was it the guttering brilliance of my soul’s madness that does sanity destroy?
The mere glint in His eye as his gaze swept over the stillness of earth
Did suffice to quench the rambling tumult of the marshalled legions of dearth
What was a mere whisper of the void, was a lost tune in the forbidding echoes
Of the slumbering mind’s vain attempts to supress the awakening throes
So bowing before the immovable force, the image beyond the distorted mirror
There was never a more perfect charade for the reaping of souls chained in furore
Us that watch the ages, as that thurible of time measures our weakness of perception
Hypnotised by the trappings of mortality, that weaves the most alluring deception


Copyright © 2017 by Tamara Lakomy





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