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El Fin

The phantasmic entities purged from their bodies by a drive-by gunning,  
in which a mother was hit in crossfire    
and the boy was shot bearing the seal of a gang on his throat,    
spun through a rip between the nuclei of oxygen    
and transported to a vertical plane in platonic philosophy.    
  
The husbandman shook the branches of the two souls    
and broke one    
to allow another in its place with births of new clans.    
And the grape transmuted into a melon by a heart of good deeds    
he spread along the ISIS-Afghan front    
to ingrain a new will.    
  
But the split souls from the second tree drunk of natural blood,    
not the blood of the lamb    
suspended in a waning magnetic field    
as the mystic breaks order,    
do not wish to dissipate    
with Gehenna below and the son pulled by the infinite blaze combusted of wayward men.    
  
To the gold reflected off the miasmic pillars of the delight    
the mother offers a trade of her soul,    
catches palms with her fallen son,    
and resolves to enlist in the torment below.    
  
But Michael    
emerged down from the raptured Holies    
and speared a polymorphic mercury wave in the youth's arm.    
Detached at the vanished joint and thrust into the fire,    
the body popped like an insect in candle light,    
while omnipresent moans arose from the still-flesh incessantly through the vibrant mound of the Mid-Beyond    
where the metagravitons    
draw the released ghosts to their respective celestial homes.    
  
Holding only his forearm, the mother's tears broke off toward hell and at once    
reversed in their crystalline visage    
and trickled into the River of Life that forked the mist of the idyll north.    
  
Gabriel descended to the Mid-Beyond and, with Michael, fluttered the reduced mother to the upper realms.    
She flailed, but had lost her will to voice    
because only praises or gnashing of teeth    
where high enough frequency to vibrate through the expanse of spirit dust.    
  
Disgustedly, Gabriel pried the arm from the catatonic mother    
and launched it at the maned and cannibal sinners    
that cultivated psychosis    
to numb the shred of their burning,    
  
for even motherhood was an instinct construed when trapped in the form of swine    
with disease cured by the animal test of swine    
because swine is all the nuclear unit will ever procure to be    
and now reeking of chitterling from their exposed gut.    
  
"Nauseating.    
I don't know why you kept it.    
You touched a whore of Satan,    
the same as lionizing feces of a rat with a diet of its own stool."    
  
Piercing the gates, escorted to the throne, the woman kneels to her God,    
and she is happy.    
The flowing light fries her mortal eyes that bust the circuits of her brain's reverie.    
And so a new shape is given her    
to exist in this place.    
  
And    
to her,    
to every remaining host of the empyrean    
except the Creator,    
her baby is no more.    
  
I thought to say,    
"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given,"    
but    
he is damned  
now    
in a scarlet pain    
of the unforgiven.
Written by DecipherMe
Published | Edited 29th May 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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