Chimera — the tattered and ancient beast,
The summation of blotted heads,
A serpent-explosion of myriad cheers,
To a heavy, non-committal hand,
Tied to a post on a cosmic timeout,
Twirling about an infinite white room with
an infinite white glow.
Speckled star-blasters — catching the Sun,
How many hands does He need to complete the deed?
Unamused, insatiable, all-consuming pit
of despair.
Another calf, a temple, another calf, a temple,
another calf, a temple.
Untouchable, ghosts with a mirage silhouette,
The seal upon the heart is coated in a light wax.
A composer of his own inner-cataclysm —
The beast cannot fulfill his diet and dies,
The rises and sets to the waxing and waning,
and the life that rests — awake, ebbing and flowing,
Chaos, confusion, minor intrigue.
A throne with the grandest array of gems,
the greatest spectacles of worship and reverence,
the face of a coin to a name in the book,
Inevitably consumed, this Mayic Chimera dies,
and is born again, and again… and again,
thus, the sub-sequential man was born.
Reminds me of a joke:
An Israeli doctor says: "In Israel, medicine is so advanced that we cut off a man's testicles, put them on another man, and in 6 weeks, he is looking for work."
The German doctor says: "That's nothing, in Germany we take part of a brain, put it in another man, and in 4 weeks he is looking for work."
The Russian doctor says: "Gentlemen, we take half a heart from a man, put it in another's chest, and in 2 weeks he is looking for work."
The American doctor laughs: "You all are behind us. Five years ago, we took a man with no brains, no heart, and no balls and made him President. Now, the whole country is looking for work!"
(This joke actually won an award for the best joke in a competition held in Britain.)
Gods greatest creation, and only mistake was making Man.