The silver moon abruptly turned crimson; a bloody gluttonous mass of a billion

fractured souls. She just as suddenly turned black. And verily, I say unto you my

child, the earth fell violently down upon its southern heavenly side.

She managed to keep the beast of survival within alive whilst the sun continued its

circumventing her trembling orb of azure. Without effort, the sun fixed its

rays upon the throat of a startled horizon. Even this cataclysmic, brutal, failure

of our planet's axis to remain at the atlantian degree, barely caused a shrug. But seismic

interventions of the first kind are not enough to stop us all from spinning faster,

wider, and with perpetually extreme kinetic dynamism well on our way to a date with some cosmic

astrolabe’s destiny. I awoke with a feverish chill. I felt besieged by a profound,

unsettling sense of loss. I could not comprehend why an impersonal God would feel

compelled to crush everything and everyone I love with a butcher's detached

indifference? Innocence and ignorance left me feeling raped by a devastating

penetration into the labyrinth of an infant's precariously feeble contentment. Oh,

and feeble I was! For the world I left behind was but a remnant of the atlantian age. My

spirit's temple had been strategically infected by black dragons summoned by my

newly christened step-mother-queen, Raven of Mystic. Dragoned toothed jaws pierced the

membrane of my soul with manipulating hallucinations and fire magic. My entire world was



galvanized with horror by an undeniable sense of betrayal. Barely a child without

the resources of an ageless eternity, I lay helpless. My gifts had yet to developed

so all I could do was scream inside my fragile heart. I gradually lost consciousness

once again, however, before oblivion’s repose, I recalled a fading, stinging mist descend upon this

maligned world. A sphere thrust against my heart's devout wishes and grand

ambitions. This was truly a venomous kingdom which the elders of the G. W.

Brotherhood of the Holy Rosicrucian’s had prophesized well before the

present year, anno domini 1666, I would someday rule over, as lord, as King,

mightiest of the mighty, holiest of holy, and Savior of Jerusalem.

(To be con't.)

12/13/2006

Posted on 12/13/2006
Copyright © 2025 Scott Utley